SOCIAL    ASPECTS 

OF 

EDUCATION, 

A   BOOK    OF 
SOURCES   AND    ORIGINAL   DISCUSSIONS 

WITH 

ANNOTATED    BIBLIOGRAPHIES 


BY 


IRVING    KING,    PH.D. 

ASSISTANT  PROFESSOR   OF   EDUCATION 
STATE  UNIVERSITY  OF   IOWA 


Nefo  ff  orfe 
THE    MACMILLAN   COMPANY 

1912 

All  rights  reserved 


COPYRIGHT,  1912, 
BY  THE  MACMILLAN   COMPANY. 


Set  up  and  clectrotypcd.     Published  March,  1912. 


Norfaoofc 

J.  8.  Gushing  Co.  —  Berwick  «fe  Smith  Co. 
Norwood,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 


PREFACE 

PROBABLY  no  student  of  education  questions  the  desirability  of  de- 
voting some  attention  to  the  social  phases  of  that  subject  in  a  well- 
rounded  teachers'  training  course.    In  fact,  such  would  seem  to  be 
the  logical  outcome  of  the  recognition  of  educational  activities  as  as- 
pects of  social  activity  and  as  bearing  some  important  relation  to 
social  progress.     Moreover,  the  processes  of  learning  in  the  individual 
are  conditioned  to  a  large  extent  by  the  social  environment  both  within 
and  without  the  school,  and  this  would  seem  to  warrant  approaching 
educational  psychology,  in  part  at  least,  from  the  point  of  view  of 
social  psychology.     Furthermore,  there  is  a  growing  recognition  that\ 
the  end  of  education,  state  it  how  we  may,  must  for  one  thing  take  \\ 
account  of  the  fact  that  the  child  is,  and  probably  will  continue  to  be,  f  i 
a  member  of  society,  and  that  his  efficiency  as  an  individual  will  al-  | 
most  inevitably  be  measured  by  social  standards  of  some  sort.     Mani- 
festly the  teacher  should  have  a  sympathetic  and  thoroughly  practi- 
cal insight  into  these  social  factors,  conditions  and  relationships,  if  he 
is  to  be  a  master  of  his  craft. 

But,  while  all  these  things  may  be  admitted  to  be  true,  there  are 
doubtless  many  that  feel  an  uncertainty  as  to  how  to  instruct  the 
would-be  teacher  profitably  along  these  lines.  The  facts  and  rela- 
tionships of  social  education  have  not  yet  been  brought  together  in 
any  comprehensive  way.  There  is  much  excellent  material  scattered 
through  many  magazines  and  journals,  but  it  needs  to  be  organized 
and  evaluated.  Several  very  suggestive  books  have  recently  appeared 
dealing  with  limited  portions  of  the  field,  but  there  is  as  yet  no  gen- 
erally recognized  statement  of  the  problems  and  the  content  of  a 
course  in  social  education  which  is  really  scientific,  that  is,  which  is 
more  than  a  mass  of  mere  empirical  details.  If  any  body  of  fact  is  to 
have  serious  consideration  in  the  scholastic  field,  it  must  have  fairly 
definite  and  well-recognized  principles  of  organization.  Thus,  while 


viii  PREFACE 

The  originals  of  most  of  the  reprinted  papers  are  easily  accessible. 
It  is  thought,  however,  that  by  bringing  them  together  in  this  way, 
with  appropriate  introductions  and  summaries,  that  they  may  acquire 
a  meaning  and  a  unity  which  they  would  not  have  if  taken  alone. 
A  cumulative  effect  is  here  possible  which  would  be  lost  altogether 
if  the  student  were  obliged  to  look  them  up  separately  in  different 
places.  It  is  hoped  also  that  the  fuller  meanings  thus  brought  to 
light  will  stimulate  the  student  to  a  more  extended  acquaintance  with 
the  books  from  which  these  extracts  are  taken. 

I  wish  to  thank  the  publishers  and  the  various  authors  mentioned 
herein  who  have  so  generously  permitted  the  reprinting  of  materials, 
much  of  which  is  copyrighted.  Special  mention  should  be  made  of 
Messrs.  Charles  Scribner's  Sons,  The  University  of  Chicago  Press,  The 
Charities  Publication  Committee,  The  School  Review,  The  Century 
Company,  The  Macmillan  Company,  Ginn  and  Company,  and  The 
Public  School  Publishing  Company.  I  am  also  under  especial  obliga- 
tions to  a  number  of  individuals  for  assistance  in  the  selection  and 
preparation  of  my  material,  particularly  to  Mr.  John  A.  Stevenson 
of  the  University  of  Wisconsin  for  enthusiastic  and  efficient  help 
in  many  ways,  and  specifically  in  the  annotation  of  parts  of  the 
bibliographies. 

Finally,  I  hope  those  who  may  use  this  book  will  be  frank  and  free 
in  offering  any  suggestions  or  criticisms  which  occur  to  them.  I  am 
far  from  regarding  it  as  final  in  form  or  in  content. 

IRVING  KING. 

THE  STATE  UNIVERSITY  OF  IOWA, 

IOWA  CITY,  November  i,  1911. 


CONTENTS 

PAGES 

PREFACE     v 

PART   I 

EXTERNAL  SOCIAL  RELATIONS  OF  EDUCATION 

CHAPTER   I 
INTRODUCTION:  THE  SOCIAL  VIEW  OF  EDUCATION    .        ,        .        .1-5 

CHAPTER   II 
THE  SOCIAL  ORIGIN  OF  EDUCATIONAL  AGENCIES       ....  6-23 

(a)  "  The  Education  of  the  Pueblo  Child."     F.  Spencer         .         .        6 

(b)  The  Social  Nature  of  Education  as  Seen  in  Primitive  Life         .       17 

(c)  Problems  for  Study  and  Discussion  .....       22 

(d)  References  on  Primitive  Types  of  Education     ....       23 

CHAPTER   III 

THE  SOCIAL  RESPONSIBILITY  OF  THE  SCHOOL  ;    THE  RURAL  SITU- 
ATION           24-53 

(a)  Current  Extensions  in  the  Meaning  and  Scope  of  Education : 

Their  Social  Significance      .......       24 

(b)  Introduction   to   the   Rural   Situation  and   the   Rural   School 

Problem        ..........       25 

(c)  "The  Hesperia  Movement."     Kenyon  L.  Butterfield        .         .       29 

(d)  "The  Rural  School  and  the  Community."     Kenyon  L.  Butter- 

field 37 

(e)  "Community  Work  in  the  Agricultural  High  School."     B.  H. 

Crocheron 43 

(/)  Problems  for  Study  and  Discussion  .         .         •   •    •         -51 

(g)  Selected  Bibliography  on  Rural  Education  and  Rural  Life         .       51 

CHAPTER   IV 
THE  SOCIAL  RELATIONS  OF  HOME  AND  SCHOOL        .        ,        .         54-64 

(a)  Home  and  School,  Introduction        .  *.         .         .         -54 

(b)  "  Parents'  Associations  and  the  Public  Schools.!!  F.  F.  Andrews       58 

(c)  Topics  for  Study  and  Discussion       .         .         .         .         .         .61 

(d)  Bibliography     ..........       62 


X  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  V 

PAGES 

THE  SCHOOL  AS  A  CENTER  OF  SOCIAL  LIFE  IN  THE  COMMUNITY      64-97 

(a)  "The  School  as  a  Social  Center."     J.  Dewey  ....       64 

(b)  "  Rochester  Social  Centers  and  Civic  Clubs."     E.  J.  Ward       .       75 

(c)  Comment  on  the  School  as  a  Social  Center       .         .         .  91 

(d)  Bibliography 96 

CHAPTER  VI 
THE  SOCIAL  NEED  FOR  CONTINUING  THE  EDUCATION  OF  THE  ADULT  98-108 

(a)  "School  Extension  and  Adult  Education."     H.  M.  Leipziger      98 

(b)  Comment  on  Evening  Lectures  for  Adults         .         .         .         .106 

(c)  Topics  for  Study       .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .108 

(d)  Bibliography 108 

CHAPTER  VII 

PLAYGROUND  EXTENSION,  AN  ASPECT  OF  THE  LARGER  MEANING  OF 

EDUCATION 109-128 

(a)  "Why  have  Playgrounds  at  Public  Expense?"     E.  B.  Mero     .     109 

(b)  "Pittsburg  Playgrounds."     Beulah  Kennard    .         .         .         .     115 

(c)  Comment  on  the  Social  Significance  of  the  Playground  Move- 

ment      124 

(d)  Selected  Bibliography  of  Play  and  Playgrounds  with  Special 

Reference  to  their  Social  Values  .        .         .        .         .        .126 

CHAPTER  VIII 
THE  SCHOOL  GARDEN,  ITS  EDUCATIONAL  AND  SOCIAL  VALUE       129-143 

(a)  "  The  Social  Significance  of  School  Gardens."  Louise  M.  Greene     1 29 

(b)  Comment  on  the  Social  Significance  of  School  Gardens    .         .140 

(c)  Selected  Bibliography  on  School  Gardens         .        .        .        .142 

CHAPTER  IX 

INDUSTRIAL    AND   VOCATIONAL    EDUCATION,    ITS    SOCIAL    SIGNIFI- 
CANCE                144-176 

(a)  "The    Fundamental    Principles    of    Continuation    Schools." 

Georg  Kerschensteiner 144 

(b)  "Past,  Present,  and  Future  of  Industrial  Education."    A.  D. 

Dean 156 


CONTENTS  xi 

PAGES 

(c)  Summary  on  Industrial  and  Vocational  Education     .        .        .165 

(d)  Problems  for  Further  Study  and  Discussion      .        .        .        .170 

(e)  Bibliography 172 

CHAPTER  X 

VOCATIONAL  DIRECTION,  ONE  OF  THE  LARGER  SOCIAL  FUNCTIONS  OF        ,  V 

EDUCATION 177-205 

*       (a)  Vocational  Direction  a  Social  Necessity   .         .         .         .         .     177 

(b)  "  Report  of  the  Students'  Aid  Committee  of  the  High  School 

Teachers1  Association  of  New  York."    E.  W.  Weaver          .     189 

(c)  Problems  for  Further  Study 204 

(d)  Bibliography 204 


CHAPTER  XI 

EDUCATION  AS  A  FACTOR  IN  SOCIAL  PROGRESS         .        .        .     206-229 

(a)  "The  School  and  Social  Progress."    J.  Dewey        .         .         .206 

(b)  Relation  of  Education  to  Social  Progress          .        .        .        .217 

(c)  Bibliography    ..........     229 


CHAPTER  XII 

EDUCATION  AS  A  FACTOR  IN  SOCIAL  REFORM   ....     230-235 

(a)  Education  and  Social  Reform  ....        .        .        .     230 

(b)  Bibliography    ..........     233 


PART   II 
INTERNAL  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

CHAPTER  XIII 

THE  GENERAL  NATURE  OF  SOCIAL  LIFE 236-247 

(a)  General  Nature  of  Social  Life  .         .         .        .        .         .        .     236 

(b)  "Primary  Groups  and  Primary  Ideals."    C.  H.  Cooley     .        .     238 

(c)  Topics  for  Study .         .     246 

(d)  Bibliography 247 


xii  CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  XIV 

PAGES 

THE  SPONTANEOUS  SOCIAL  LIFE  OF  CHILDREN  ....      248-263 

(a)  Spontaneous  Social  Organizations  among  Children  .         .         .     248 

(b)  "Rudimentary  Society  among  Boys."     J.Johnson   .         .         .     250 

(c)  Topics  for  Study       .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .261 

(d)  Bibliography 262 

CHAPTER  XV 

THE  SOCIAL  LIFE  OF  THE  SCHOOL 264-290 

(a)  The  Social  Life  of  the  School  and  Social  Education          .         .     264 

(b)  "The  Social  Organization  of  the  High  School."   F.W.Johnson     274 

(c)  Topics  for  Study 287 

(d)  Bibliography 288 

CHAPTER  XVI 

THE  SOCIAL  LIFE  OF  THE  SCHOOL  AS  EXPRESSED  IN  ITS  GOVERN- 
MENT         291-309 

(a)  "  Democratic  Government  of  Schools."    J.T.Ray.         .         .     291 

(b)  "  Some  Facts  about  Pupil  Self-government.'1     Richard  Welling     298 

(c)  Comment  on  Pupil  Cooperation  in  School  Government     .         .     304 

(d)  Bibliography     ..........     307 

CHAPTER  XVII 

THE  PERSONAL  FACTOR  IN  THE  SOCIAL  LIFE  OF  THE  SCHOOL      .      310-324 

(a)  Personal  Influence  and  Leadership  .         .         .         .         .         .310 

(b)  Topics  for  Study  and  Discussion 322 

(c)  Bibliography 323 

CHAPTER   XVIII 

THE  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  MENTAL  DEVELOPMENT      .        .        .     325-356 

(a)  The  Social  Aspects  of  Mental  Development  and  of  Personality. 

Introductory  Statement          .  325 

(b)  "  The  Social  Aspect  of  the  Higher  Forms  of  Docility."   J.  Royce     326 

(c)  "The  Social  Basis  of  Personality."     C.  H.  Cooley   .         .         .336 

(d)  Summary  and  Comment  upon  the  Social   Aspects   of  Mental 

Development         .........     344 

(e)  Bibliography 355 


CONTENTS  xiii 

CHAPTER  XIX 

PAGES 

THE  SOCIAL  ATMOSPHERE   OF    THE    SCHOOL    AND    THE    LEARNING 

PROCESS 3  5  7-398 

(a)  The  Social  Aspects  of  Learning :  Introductory  Statement         .     357 

(b)  "The  Group  as  a  Stimulus  to  Mental  Activity."     W.  H.  Burn- 

ham      358 

(c)  "The  Psychology  of  Social  Consciousness  Implied  in  Instruc- 

tion."    G.  H.  Mead 363 

(d)  "  The  Social  Values  of  the  Curriculum."    J.  Dewey  .         .         .369 

(e)  "Social  Significance  of  Self-organized  Group  Work."     C.  A. 

Scott 377 

(f)  Comment  on  the  Social  Aspects  of  Class  Instruction         .         .  393 

(g)  Topics  for  Study       .         .         .         *         .         .         .         ...  397 

(fi)  References 398 

CHAPTER   XX 

THE  CORPORATE  LIFE  OF  THE  SCHOOL  IN  RELATION   TO   MORAL 

TRAINING 399-421 

(a)  "  Social  Aspects  of  Moral  Training."     R.  Reeder     .         .         .     399 

(b)  Social  Basis  of  Moral  Education       .         .         .  .         .     408 

(c)  Topics 420 

(d)  References 421 


INDEX 


423 


ABBREVIATIONS 

A.  A.  A Annals  of  the  American  Academy  of  Political  and 

Social  Science. 

Am.  Ed American  Education. 

Am.  Jour.  Soc.  .     .  American  Journal  of  Sociology. 

Am.  S.  B.  Jour.      .  American  School  Board  Journal. 

Bui.  U.  S.  Bur.  Ed.  Bulletin  of  the  United  States  Bureau  of  Education. 

Charities   ....  Charities  and  the  Commons. 

Chaut Chautauquan. 

Ed Education. 

Ed.  Rev Educational  Review. 

El.  S.  T Elementary  School  Teacher. 

Ind Independent. 

Int.  Jour.  Eth.    .     .  International  Journal  of  Ethics. 

Man.  Tr.  Mag.  .     .  Manual  Training  Magazine. 

N.  C.  C.  C.    .     .     .  National  Conference  of  Charities  and  Corrections. 

N.  E.  A Report  of  the  National  Educational  Association. 

N.  E.  Mag.    .     .     .  New  England  Magazine. 

N.  S.  S.  E.    .     .     .  National  Society  for  the  Study  of  Education. 

Fed.  S Pedagogical  Seminary. 

Pop.  Sc.  M.  .     .     .  Popular  Science  Monthly. 

S.  Rev School  Review. 

W.  W.  World's  Work. 


SOCIAL  ASPECTS   OF    EDUCATION 

PART  I 
EXTERNAL  SOCIAL  RELATIONS  OF  EDUCATION 

CHAPTER  I 

INTRODUCTION:  THE  SOCIAL  VIEW  OF  EDUCATION 

IT  is  the  purpose  of  this  Source  Book  to  introduce  the  student  to 
some  of  the  more  important  social  relations  and  social  meanings  of 
present-day  education.  The  development  of  the  modern  sciences 
of  sociology  and  social  psychology  have  furnished  the  principles  for  a 
broader  science  of  education  than  that  which  was  possible  when 
psychology  was  the  only  pure  science  upon  which  educational  theory 
and  practice  could  be  built.  We  are  not  disposed  to  question  in  any 
degree  the  importance  of  psychology  for  education.  Its  status  is 
thoroughly  established. 

Psychology,  however,  furnishes  only  a  part  of  the  background  from 
which  the  educational  process  must  be  viewed,  and  from  which  its 
governing  principles  must  be  worked  out.  It  is  true  that  education 
presupposes  mental  activity  and  mental  growth  in  the  learner,  and  it 
is  important  that  the  trained  teacher  should  know  something  of  the 
biological  and  psychological  principles  involved  in  these  changes.  But 
the  teacher  cannot  afford  to  limit  his  view  to  the  individual  pupil  or 
to  a  group  of  pupils  regarded  separately.  No  one  can  ever  live  to 
himself  alone.  In  all  sorts  of  subtle  ways  each  one,  in  whatever  he 
thinks  or  does,  is  influenced  by  other  people.  This  is  true  of  chil- 
dren in  school  as  well  as  of  adults.  Moreover,  all  educational  activi- 
ties are  great  social  enterprises,  and  here  also  are  important  relation-^ 
ships  to  take  into  account  in  getting  a  comprehensive  view  of  the 
process  of  education. 

But  it  is  not  only  on  the  side  of  the  principles  involved  that  a  social 
study  of  education  is  now  desirable.  The  scope  of  educational  activ- 


2  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

f 

ity  has  been  immensely  broadened  in  recent  years.  This  has  been 
due  not  so  much  to  any  theoretical  recognition  of  the  wider  meanings 
of  education,  as  to  the  practical  necessities  which  the  growing  com- 
plexities of  modern  life  have  thrust  upon  educational  leaders.  That 
these  great  extensions  of  educational  activity  may  be  studied  and 
valuated,  it  is  necessary  for  the  student  of  education  to  be  a  sociologi- 
cal as  well  as  a  psychological  expert. 

There  are  three  senses  in  which  education  is  a  social  process.  Fjjst 
of  all  it  is  the  instrument  used  by  society  for  conserving  its  culture 
and  providing  efficient  men  and  women  for  carrying  forward  and  de- 
veloping still  further  the  work  which  has  to  be  done.  In  the  second 
place  the  school  itself  is  a  little  social  group  and  the  work  of  instruc- 
tion can  be  directed  to  the  best  advantage  only  by  those  who  have  a 
sympathetic  understanding  of  its  internal  social  relationships.  In 
the  thircj  place,  the  process  of  learning  is  a  social  process  and  needs 
to  be  interpreted  and  controlled  by  established  facts  regarding 
the  interaction  of  mind  with  mind.  In  at  least  three  different  direc- 
tions, then,  a  social  viewpoint  is  needful  for  a  full  understanding  ol 
the  nature  and  possibilities  of  present-day  education. 

It  is  not  suggested  that  these  social  phases  of  education  are  in  any 
sense  modern  developments.  It  is  only  the  recognition  of  them  that 
belongs  to  our  own  day.  In  every  age,  from  the  most  primitive  to  our 
own,  these  social  relations  have  characterized  society's  work  of  edu- 
cating its  children.  They  have  come  to  light  to-day  and  have  pressec 
upon  us  for  practical  recognition  because  of  the  high  degree  of  speciali- 
zation which  has  come  to  pass  in  education  along  with  other  phases 
of  modern  life.  "  There  was  a  time  when  people  were  quite  ready  to 
define  education.  It  would  be  rash  to  do  so  to-day.  The  term  de- 
notes more  than  it  has  for  any  other  age.  Neither  Plato,  Quintilian, 
nor  Locke  nor  Spencer,  nor  even  Rousseau,  faced,  much  less  solved, 
our  present-day  problems.  Their  simple,  naive  devices  were  'meant 
for  an  earlier  time  and  for  a  simpler  civilization."  l 

In  modern  communities,  moreover,  there  are  in  progress  manifold 
and  fundamental  readjustments.  These  have  been  going  on  and  will 
continue  to  go  on  whether  as  individuals  we  wis 
Society  is  larger  than  any  individual,  and  even  thou< 

1  Johnston,  Educational  Review,  Feb.  1909. 


INTRODUCTION:  THE  SOCIAL  VIEW  OF  EDUCATION      3 

something  to  the  direction  of  its  changes,  for  practical  purposes  he 
is  caught  in  a  vast  network  of  activities,  the  outcome  of  which  he 
can  only  vaguely  guess.  Some  of  the  changes  in  human  conditions 
wrought  by  the  forces  which  the  modern  world  has  set  going  seem  to 
be  harmful  rather  than  otherwise.  Both  from  the  side  of  the  physi- 
cal, intellectual  and  moral  natures,  the  individual  has  suffered  and  is 
suffering.  We  may  have  abounding  faith  that  there  will  be  adequate 
compensation  of  some  sort.  We  may  think  we  see  some  of  the  com- 
pensations in  a  general  way,  but  their  details  are  yet  only  imperfectly 
worked  out.  It  is  because  of  these  conditions  of  rapid  growth  and 
readjustment  that  we  are  forced  more  and  more  to  take  into  account 
the  social  bearings  of  education.  It  is  manifest  to  all  who  have  eyes 
to  see  that  increasingly  heavier  burdens  are  being  placed  on  educative 
agencies  and  institutions. 

In  view  of  these  new  responsibilities  there  are  many  who  see  in  the 
school  a  vital  force  for  social  progress.  Thus  John  Dewey  has  said 
that  "  The  school  is  a  fundamental  method  of  social  progress  and  re- 
form." Ross,1  "  School  education  in  our  day  is  a  mighty  engine  of 
progress.  The  teacher  has  a  wider  outlook  and  a  freer  mind  than  the 
average  parent."  Scott  says,  "  the  school  at  its  best  is  a  prophecy, 
as  every  embryo  is  a  prophecy,  of  a  better  and  nobler  life."  2 

One  of  the  fundamental  problems  in  the  study  of  the  social  rela- 
tions of  education  is  suggested  in  the  above  quotations.  It  is  a  two- 
fold problem  and  it  may  be  abstractly  stated  thus : 

First,  —  To  what  extent  may  educational  forces  be  regarded  as 
definite  avenues  of  social  progress? 

Second,  —  To  what  extent  may  various  educational  forces,  and  the 
school  in  particular,  become  more  effective  promoters  of  social  prog- 
ress as  well  as  more  efficient  agencies  of  instruction  through  a  recog- 
nition of  — 

(a)  Their  broader  social  relationships,  and 

(b)  Their  internal  social  character? 

Neither  of  these  questions  should  be  answered  without  serious  re- 
flection. It  is  not  a  foregone  conclusion  that  the  schools  are  really 
agents  of  social  progress.  One  who  is  inclined  to  take  the  view  that 
they  are  agencies  for  positive  betterment  should  take  into  account 

1 "  Social  Psychology,"  p.  231.  2  "k  Social  Education,"  p.  2. 


4  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

the  fact  that'  there  are  many  conspicuous  failures  of  the  recognized 
educational  forces  to  obtain  satisfactory  results.  Professor  William 
James  said  (some  years  ago)  in  a  public  address:  "There  is  not  a  public 
abuse  on  the  whole  eastern  coast  which  does  not  receive  the  enthusias- 
tic approval  of  some  Harvard  graduate.  Fifty  years  ago  the  schools 
were  supposed  to  free  us  from  crimes  and  unhappiness,  but  we  do  not 
indulge  in  such  sanguine  hopes  to  any  extent  to-day.  Though  educa- 
tion frees  us  from  the  more  brutal  forms  of  crime,  it  is  true  that  edu- 
cation itself  has  put  even  meaner  forms  of  crime  in  our  way.  The 
intellect  is  the  servant  of  our  passions,  and  sometimes  education  only 
makes  the  person  more  adroit  in  carrying  out  these  impulses." 1 
Another  great  teacher,  a  professor  of  ethics,  confessed  that  one  of  his 
honor  students  was  later  elected  to  a  state  legislature  and  became  a 
"  common  grafter."  These  two  instances  are  typical  of  many  cur- 
rent indictments  of  modern  education.  It  is  within  the  limits  of  truth 
to  say  that  many  people  feel  that  the  school  of  to-day  is  very  imper- 
fectly meeting  its  increased  responsibilities.  President  Eliot  says 
that  the  intelligence  produced  by  our  schools  is  ineffective  and  not 
worth  the  money  spent.  Other  thoughtful  students  of  the  times  have 
offered  even  severer  indictments  of  current  education. 

This  is  not  to  be  taken  to  mean  that  our  schools  are  less  effi- 
cient absolutely  than  those  of  past  generations,  but  rather  that 
they  are  relatively  less  able  to  cope  with  the  demands  of  their  age. 
If  it  could  be  possible  to  transfer  them  to  the  social  conditions  of 
even  a  generation  ago  we  have  reason  to  think  they  would  prove  su- 
perior to  the  schools  of  that  day  in  meeting  the  demands  made  upon 
them.  But  even  so  recently  as  the  past  generation,  much  of  the  work 
now  being  loaded  upon  the  school  was  performed  by  other  institutions. 
Moreover,  in  that  day,  with  a  less  crowded  population  and  cheaper 
living,  the  problem  and  the  need  of  the  schools'  taking  up  various 
specialized  types  of  education,  such  as  industrial  and  vocational,  did 
not  present  itself.  The  need  of  medical  inspection  and  other  efforts 
to  protect  the  health  of  school  children  was  not  only  not  appreciated 
but  also  was  largely  nonexistent.  Neither  was  there  the  need  for 
playgrounds,  school  gardens,  vocational  direction  and  a  host  of  other 
phases  of  current  education.  At  least,  these  needs  were  met  in  other 

1  Quoted  by  C.  A.  Ellwood,  School  Review,  15 :  544. 


INTRODUCTION:  THE  SOCIAL  VIEW  OF  EDUCATION      5 

ways.  Although  we  are  facing  radically  different  conditions  to-day, 
many  people  are  slow  to  see  that  the  traditional  activities  of  the  school 
are  in  any  wise  affected.  However,  as  has  been  well  pointed  out,  the 
"  distribution  of  educative  power  among  the  social  institutions  is  by 
no  means  a  fixed  division  of  burdens,  set  once  and  for  all,  by  tradition 
or  reason.  The  needs  of  society  lay  their  heavy  demands  now  upon 
one  agent,  now  upon  another,  and  in  shifting  currents  of  social  progress 
some  institutions,  once  powerful,  are  left  weakened,  if  not  helpless, 
while  other  institutions  wax  strong  to  meet  the  demands  of  the  time. 
The  homes  of  the  urban  industrial  classes  have  not  the  moral  influence 
over  children  exercised  by  the  family  life  of  the  farmer;  the  church 
grips  fewer  members  with  its  theological  doctrines  than  it  did  a  cen- 
tury ago;  the  trades  do  less  for  their  apprentices  in  the  modern  fac- 
tory than  they  did  when  lodged  in  the  household;  the  press  has  more 
influence;  libraries  are  more  plentiful;  and  the  school  has  grown 
to  be  a  modern  giant  where  it  was  once  a  puny  babe.  The  same  old 
institutional  torces'^beal  upon  "the  nervou5~5y stems  of  men,  but  the 
relative  distribution  of  their  work  has  changed  and  is  changing. 

"In  all  these  variations  of  influence,  one  striking  tendency  stands  out 
clearly:  as  the  agencies  for  incidental  and  informal  education  become 
incapable  of  training  men  for  their  complex  environment,  society, 
becoming  increasingly  self-conscious,  gathers  up  the  neglected  func- 
tions and  assigns  them  to  the  school.  As  church  and  family  life  ceases 
to  keep  pace  with  the  moral  demands  of  our  intricate  social  life,  the 
problem  of  moral  education  becomes  conspicuous  in  the  schools.  As 
the  work  and  play  of  the  children  under  the  conditions  of  city  life  be- 
come restricted  so  as  to  deprive  them  of  robust  physical  activities 
in  the  fresh  air  and  sunshine,  the  school  is  called  upon  to  combat  the 
danger  with  systematic  physical  training.  As  factory  and  shop  em- 
ployment becomes  specialized  and  scientific,  and  the  system  of  ap- 
prenticeship fails  to  make  good  workmen,  the  obligation  to  train 
efficient  employees  is  thrust  upon  the  schools."  * 

1  Snedden,  The  Problem  of  Vocational  Education,  from  the  Introduction. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  SOCIAL   ORIGIN   OF  EDUCATIVE   AGENCIES 

The  Education  of  the  Pueblo  Child 

WE  have  seen  how  the  quite  general  reluctance  of  primitive  people 
to  permit  innovations,  doubtless  due  in  part  to  mental  feebleness  and 
inertia,  but  in  a  larger  measure  to  superstitious  beliefs,  has  become 
so  intensified  in  the  minds  of  the  Pueblos  that  any  deviation  from  the 
ways  of  their  ancestors  is  regarded  as  a  sacrilege  deserving  the  dis- 
pleasure of  both  gods  and  men.  It  remains  for  us  to  examine  the 
educational  method  which  enables  them  to  conserve  the  ancient  wis- 
dom as  exemplified  in  their  religious  lore,  manners,  customs,  indus- 
tries and  art,  and  to  hand  it  down  without  material  change  from 
generation  to  generation. 

It  will  readily  be  seen  that  something  more  than  mere  spontaneous 
imitation  is  necessary  to  accomplish  this  result.  For  the  purpose  of  I 
this  investigation  it  is  convenient  to  consider  their  education  under 
three  aspects  ;  namely,  industrial,  moral  and  religious  education.  It 
must,  however,  be  admitted  that  no  definite  lines  of  cleavage  can  be 
found  between  these  divisions,  since  all  acts  are  to  the  Pueblo  re- 
ligious, even  to  the  minutest  details  of  his  everyday  life.  It  is  only 
when  the  immediateness  of  aim  is  considered,  such  as  preservation 
of  life  or  bodily  comfort,  that  distinctions  can  be  drawn  between 
religious  and  industrial  pursuits.  Thus  the  planting  of  corn,  although 
to  the  Pueblo  a  religious  function,  has  for  its  immediate  aim  the  pro- 
curing of  food  for  sustaining  life. 

I  Imitation,  taken  in  its  broader  sense,  is  the  largest  factor  in  both  their 

industrial  and  religious  training,  but  it  is  not  to  a  very  large  extent, 

except  in  the  earlier  years  of  the  child,  a  spontaneous  or  free  imitation. 

Although  it  is  true  that  spontaneous  imitation  enters  very  largely  into 

the  education  of  most  uncivilized  races,  the  most  important  factor  in 

the  education  of  the  Pueblo  is  an  imitation  which  is  not  spontaneous, 

but  is  brought  about  by  external  constraint.  /It  is  the  key  to  Pueblo 

education,  as  the  Pueblos  are  the  key  to  the  whole  civilization  of  the 

Tt  is  with  this  non-spontaneous  imitative  phase  of  educa- 

which  investigators  of  primitive  life,  and  educators  as  well,  have 


THE  SOCIAL  ORIGIN  OF  EDUCATIVE  AGENCIES          7 

generally  overlooked,  that  this  discussion  is  chiefly  concerned.  The 
aspect  of  modern  education,  with  which  this  primitive  education  is 
most  nearly  comparable,  is  the  apprentice_system  —  a  system  which 
still  largely  persists  in  every  industry  "of  rural  communities  and  the 
more  mechanical  pursuits  in  all  communities.  The  form  in  which  it  is 
found  among  the  Pueblos  is  quite  characteristic  of  this  stage  of  civiliza- 
tion, and  as  it  is  more  primitive  in  its  nature  than  the  method  generally 
comprehended  under  this  term~"it  may  not  be  incorrect  to  designate  it 
as  a  prerapprentice  method.  The  discussion  of  this  method  and  its 
effects  upon  t1t£  life  and  character  of  the  Pueblos  is  reserved  to  the 
close  of  this  chapter,  in  order  that  it  may  be  studied  in  the  light  of  the 
actual  facts  of  their  education. 

Industrial  Training.  —  In  the  earlier  years  of  the  Pueblo  boy  or  girl 
a  large  measure  of  freedom  is  given,  and  owing  to  the  lingering  savage 
ideas  and  phlegmatic  nature  of  the  barbarian,  many  acts  of  seeming 
wantonness  or  cruelty  of  the  children  go  entirely  unrebuked  by  their 
elders.  This  is  sometimes  taken  as  an  indication  that  their  children 
are  entirely  uncontrolled,  but  such  is  not  the  case.  Indeed,  just  the 
opposite  is  true.  The  Pueblos  love  their  children  and  look  after  their 
training  carefully.  Like  the  plays  of  children  everywhere,  those  of  the 
Pueblo  children  are  symbolical/;  spontaneous  imitation  of  the  more 
serious  work  of  their  elders  prevails  and  is  truly  educational,  as  it  pre- 
pares the  way  for  the  later  life  into  which  they  are  to  enter.  But  very 
early,  even  the  plays,  unconsciously  to  the  children,  are  directed  by 
their  parents.  Thus,  the  dolls  with  which  the  child  plays  are  repre- 
sentations of  their  deities,  so  that  the  child  early  learns  to,  recognize 
many  of  his  godsJ*  But,  unlike  the  civilized  child,  the  Indian  does  not 
grow  out  of  the  delusion  of  a  personality  in  these  masked  jlolls;  it 
even  grows  stronger  with  age. 

^The  principal  occupations  of  the  Pueblos,  such  as  agriculture,  hunt- 
ing, pottery  and  implement  making,  weaving  and  building,  are  .all 
imitated  in  the  plays  of  the  children ;  at  first  very  rudely,  of  course, 
but  later  with  considerable  fidelity,  for  imitation  has  become  almost) 
instinctive  with  the  Pueblos.  They  are  tacitly  encouraged  in  these 
plays  by  their  elders,  who  provide  those  things  which  the  child  nature 
calls  for  when  beyond  the  stage  in  which  the  bent  stick  suffices  for  a, 
bow  and  the  twig  for  the  arrow,  and  when  his  plays  become  less  purely 
symbolical.  Thus,  the  Indian  boy  is  provided  with  a  bow  and  arrqws 
and  becomes  a  hunter,  a  battle-ax  and  becomes  a  warrior,  or  he  is 
given  a  plat  of  ground  where  he  constructs  miniature  aceqjafiis  and  tills 
the  soil  or  herds  his  flocks.  With  a  few  stones  and  some  aaobe  he  con- 

cfrnrtc    rniniatnrp.    I'mi'fatiVmc    of    tV^CA    Kin'Mi'nnrc     wVnVVi     TiavP    hppnltbe 

' 


8   ,  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

take  an  active  part  in  the  simpler  of  these  occupations,  for  the  Pueblo 
children  are  taught  to  work  as  soon  as  they  can  be  of  the  least  assist- 
ance. Likewise,  the  little  girl  imitates  in  her  plays  those  occupa- 
tions which  fall  to  the  woman's  lot  among  the  Pueblos;  maternal  du- 
ties, household  cares,  bearing  of  burdens,  as  well  as  the  more  skillful 
occupation  of  pottery  making,  basket  and  cloth  weaving,  bead  and  shell 
work,  —  all  find  a  place  in  her  spontaneous  activities.  Like  her  brother, 
also,  she  is  very  early  required  to  begin  her  life  work.  Little  girls  of 
five  and  six  assist  in  caring  for  the  younger  children,  carry  water  and 
wood  and  even  help  to  prepare  the  clay  for  the  pottery  aj|d  the  material 
for  the  basket  weaving.  As  the  children  grow  older  they  gradually 
take  a  larger  share  in  all  the  occupations  common  to  the  Pueblos. 
|  Specialization  does  not  figure  prominently  in  this  stage  of  develop- 
ment. The  labor  of  one  is  generally  the  labor  of  all ;  yet  there  are 
individuals  who,  having  reached  a  greater  degree  of  skill,  practically 
monopolize  certain  kinds  of  work,  such  as  silver,  shell  or  stone  work- 
ing, or  making  a  given  kind  of  pottery  or  basket  or  the  working  of 
ornamental  designs  on  ceremonial  apparel.  Thus  certain  individuals 
gain  a  reputation  as  experts,  and  the  demand  for  their  particular  ware 
becomes  so  great  that  they  are  permitted  to  give  up  other  occupations 
and  devote  their  time  exclusively  to  their  specialties.  The  children 
of  these  specialists  are  quite  likely  to  be  taught  the  secrets  of  the  trade 
or  workmanship  of  their  parents,  and  so  some  occupations  remain  in 
the  hands  of  certain  families.  It  is  the  embryological  stage  of  speciali- 
zation. But  whatever  the  occupation,  or  whatever  the  skill  attained, 
the  method  of  instruction  is  the  same.*"  The  boys  are  apprentices  of 
the  men  and  the  girls  of  the  women  of  their  immecEfcte  relatives,  and 
they  follow  the  pedagogical  maxim  of  "Learn  to  do  by  doing  "  to  its 
logical  outcome^  The  theoretical  or  inventive  field  remains  an  unknown 
land.  The  learner  has  placed  before  him  a  model  which  he  endeavors 
to  reproduce  exactly.  No  tune  or  material  is  wasted  in  attempting  to 
improve  upon  the  model,  rude  though  it  be.  The  one  desideratum 
is  the  acquirement  of  a  certain  amount  of  dexterity  or  skill  in  doing 
just  the  things  his  ancestors  have  done  century  after  century  before 
him.  Indeed,  in  all  their  occupations  requiring  skill,  such  as  build- 
ing, weaving,  basket  and  pottery  making,  the  forms  have  become  so 
conventionalized  by  their  beliefs  that  a  religious  sanction  is  placed 
upon  them,  which  it  would  be  a  serious  desecration  to  disregard.  That 
the  method  is  not  without  its  advantages  is  attested  by  its  almost 
universal  prevalence  among  primitive  people,  and  its  survival  in  modi- 
fied forms  in  enlightened  nations.  It  assures  the  conservation  of  the 
learning  and  occupations  of  the  past,  a  standard  to  which  all  must 
rise,  a  stable  condition  of  society,  a  freedom  from  innovations  which 
may  disturb  the  social  or  industrial  order,  and,  barring  external  con- 


THE  SOCIAL  ORIGIN  OF  EDUCATIVE  AGENCIES          9 

ditions,  a  national  longevity  and  the  transmission,  unchanged,  of  all 
the  lore  of  the  ancients. 

Moral  aa&Jfceifgieus  Training.  —  The  moral  education  of  the  Pueblo 
differs  materially  from  that  which  we  have  in  our  own  civilization.  In 
some  respects  he  would  not  suffer  by  comparison.  The  implicit  obedience 
of  children,  their  marked  respect  for  their  elders,  the  kindness  of  parents 
to  children,  their  natural  helpfulness,  generous  hospitality,  forbearance 
and  industry,  are  all  marked  characteristics  of  this  people. 

In  the  wildest,  roughest  plays  of  the  children,  or  in  the  most  intensely 
exciting  games  of  adults,  no  Pueblo  will  angrily  strike  another.  It 
would  be  beneath  his  dignity.  The  child  who  would  disdain  the  coun- 
sel of  his  parents  or  refuse  to  obey  unquestioningly  their  commands 
would  be  looked  upon  with  horror;  yet  no  harsh  means  are  used  in 
attaining  this  result.  For  him  a  better  way  has  been  found. 

Th&JEueblo  child  does  not  receive  commands  to  do  or  refrain  from 
doing  without  the  reason  for  the  command  being  given.  This  reason 
is  given  in  the  form  of  a  story  in  which  the  given  action  is  portrayed 
with  the  good  or  evil  resulting  to  the  doer.  These  legends  or  folk 
tales  are  very  numerous,  so  that  one  may  be  found  to  illustrate  almost 
any  case  that  may  arise. 

The  effectiveness  of  these  tales  depends  upon  the  superstitious  fear 
which  is  marked  among  even  the  children  of  the  Pueblos.  The  circum- 
stances under  which  these  tales  are  generally  told  lends]  force  or  impres- 
siveness  to  the  lessons  they  contain.  The  grandfathers  of  the  village 
are  the  story-tellers,  the  primitive  schoolmasters  and  historians  of  the 
tribe.  The  evening  when  the  fires  burn  low  and  the  close  room  is  but 
dimly  lighted  is  the  favorite  time  for  the  repeating  of  these  tales,  and 
the  solemn  half  chant  in  which  they  are  told,  together  with  the  strik- 
ing gestures  accompanying  them,  give  them  a  weirdly  dramatic  effect. 

They  exercise  a  profound  influence  on  the  conduct  of  the  children,  and 
the  moral  laws  they  prescribe  are  seldom  transgressed.  Another  cus- 
tom of  the  Pueblos  tending  toward  the  same  end  is  a  dance  ex- 
pressly to  frighten  the  children  into  strict  obedience.  The  custom  is 
thus  described  as  it  is  practiced  at  Zuni :  "  The  Zufii  have  an  annual 
dance  expressly  to  frighten  the  children  and  keep  them  in  good  be- 
havior during  the  rest  of  the  year.  Characters  even  more  horrible 
than  those  with  the  buffalo  horns  are  the  chief  actors.  They  repre- 
sent fearful  goblins  who  come  to  devour  and  carry  away  the  children. 
They  make  the  rounds  of  all  the  houses  in  the  town,  and  at  their  ap- 
proach the  parents  conceal  their  little  ones,  pretending  to  frighten  the 
demons  off  and  desperately  defend  their  offspring. 

"  This  makes  a  lasting  impression  on  the  children,  and  the  mention  of 
these  creatures  henceforth  has  a  quieting  effect.  Formerly  the  Zuni 
had  a  dance  which  took  place  once  in  thirty  years.  The  ceremonies 


io  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

required  the  sacrifice  of  one  child.  For  the  victim  the  worst  child  in 
the  village  was  selected.  The  mention  of  the  festival  was  apt  to  produce 
good  behavior  in  any  child." 

\  The  virtues  which  the  Pueblo  father  or  mother  seeks  to  inculcate 
are  obedience,  industry,  modesty,  and  especially  the  avoidance  of  evil 
sorcery  of  all  kinds,  which  to  them  is  the  acme  of  depravity,  and  they 
secure  it  almost  wholly  through  an  appeal  to  superstitious  fear. 

Religious  Training.  — The  education  of  the  Pueblos  which  most  nearly 
corresponds  to  that  given  by  the  schools  in  civilized  countries  is  their 
religious  education.  This  reaches  into  the  minutest  details  of  their 
lives,  which  are  one  incessant  round  of  formulary  observances.  The 
acquiring  of  their  very  elaborate  ritual,  which  must  be  exactly  trans- 
mitted and  exactly  used  'in  order  to  be  efficacious,  is  an  educational 
task  of  no  small  proportions.  Here  again  the  instinctive  imitativeness 
of  the  Indian  proves  very  useful.  The  child  is  surrounded  from  his 
earliest  years  with  rites  and  ceremonies  which  he  soon  begins  to  imi- 
tate, and  to  the  end  of  his  life,  be  it  ever  so  long,  he  will  continue  a 
learner  in  this  field. 

At  the  age  of  about  four  or  five  years  the  boys,  and  sometimes  the 
girls,  are  initiated  into  a  secret  society  which  practically  includes  the 
whole  village.  These  initiations  differ  in  detail  among  the  various 
pueblos,  but  are  essentially  similar.  It  is  through  these  initiations  that 
the  child  becomes  a  rightful  member  of  the  pueblo,  shares  in  the  com- 
munal rights  and  privileges  and  is  placed  under  the  protection  of  the 
tribal  gods.  To  the  primitive  mind  these  initiatory  ceremonies  are  so 
necessary,  so  sacred  and  impressive,  that  all  their  features  are  indelibly 
stamped  in  memory.  Taken  in  connection  with  the  elaborate  rites 
and  ceremonies  which  must  later  be  learned,  they  form  the  larger  part 
of  their  purposeful  education.  The  initiation  into  the  Ka-ka,  as  it  is 
practiced  at  Zufii,  is  described  by  Mrs.  M.  E.  Stevenson  in  her  article 
on  the  religious  life  of  the  Zufii  'child.1  The  substance  of  her  descrip- 
tion is  as  follows :  After  eight  days  of  preparation,  during  which  prayers 
are  said,  sacrifices  made,  wood  brought  from  the  mesas,  paints  and 
ceremonial  vestments  prepared,  nightly  rehearsals  made  and  many  dances 
and  ceremonials  of  the  elders  performed,  the  actual  initiation  of  the 
child  begins.  The  ceremony  is  begun  about  the  time  of  the  setting  of 
the  sun,  by  the  priest  of  the  sun  sprinkling  a  line  of  sacred  prayer 
meal  about  the  village,  marking  (with  the  meal)  the  position  of  the 
priests,  who  take  their  places  as  indicated.  The  godfathers  then  pass 
along  the  line  of  meal,  each  one  holding  his  godchild  on  his  back  by  a 
blanket  which  he  draws  tightly  around  him,  and  as  he  passes  the  line 
of  priests  each  one  strikes  the  child  a  severe  blow  with  a  bunch  of  Span- 
ish bayonets.  The  Indian,  from  infancy,  looks  upon  the  exhibition 
1  Bureau  of  Ethnology  Report,  Vol.  V. 


THE  SOCIAL  ORIGIN  OF  EDUCATIVE  AGENCIES        n 

of  feeling  when  undergoing  physical  pain  as  a  sign  of  weakness,  yet  so 
severe  are  these  blows  that  they  force  tears  from  the  eyes  of  the  chil- 
dren, but  no  cry  is  heard.  After  this  test  the  godfathers  take  the 
children  to  the  Kiva  of  the  North,  where  plumes  are  selected  and 
placed  in  the  scalp  locks  of  the  boys.  A  medicine  priest  then  gives  each 
godfather  and  his  ward  a  drink  of  the  holy  water  which  is  kept  in  the 
sacred  vessels.  While  they  drink,  prayer  is  said  by  the  godparents  and 
repeated  by  the  boys.  They  then  return  to  the  plaza,  where  the  chil- 
dren undergo  a  second  trial.  Each  child  kneels  and  clasps  the  bent 
knee  of  his  guardian,  who  draws  him  still  closer  with  his  blanket  around 
him.  Four  priests  appear,  and  first  having  tested  the  thickness  of 
the  child's  clothing,  each  strikes  him  across  the  back  with  the  yucca 
blade.  This  concludes  the  first  part  of  the  ceremony. 

The  second  part  takes  place  during  the  night  in  the  Kivas,  the 
boy  sitting  on  a  ledge  between  the  knees  of  his  sponsor.  When  all 
have  taken  their  places,  the  priest  of  the  North  arises  and  taking  a 
wand  walks  over  to  the  first  boy,  and  holding  the  wand  toward  the 
mouth  of  the  boy,  he  breathes  upon  it  four  times,  the  child  drawing 
from  it  each  time  the  sacred  breath  passing  from  the  mouth  of  the  priest 
over  the  sacred  plume.  This  ceremony  is  performed  for  each  boy  and 
by  each  of  the  priests  of  the  West,  South,  East,  Zenith  and  Nadir  in 
turn.  The  Kolowitsi,  the  plumed -serpent,  now  appears  at  the  entrance 
above.  The  high  priest,  the  war  priest  and  the  priestess  of  the  earth 
advance  to  meet  the  serpent,  each  carrying  a  large  earthen  bowl  to 
catch  the  sacred  water  poured  from  its  mouth.  Each  guardian  fills 
a  small  bowl  with  the  water,  and  drinking  a  portion  of  it  gives  the  re- 
mainder to  the  boy  to  drink.  After  the  water  is  exhausted,  a  blanket 
is  held  to  catch  the  seeds  of  all  the  cereals  poured  from  the  mouth  of 
the  serpent.  These  are  taken  by  the  priest  and  distributed  to  all  pres- 
ent. This  done,  the  boys  return  to  their  homes. 

Early  the  next  morning  each  boy  is  taken  by  his  godfather  and  led 
to  a  point  eastward  some  distance  from  the  village,  each  sprinkling  a 
line  of  sacred  meal.  A  prayer  is  said  which  is  repeated  by  the  boy, 
after  which  the  godfather,  making  a  hole  in  the  ground,  plants  a  prayer 
plume.  From  this  time  the  boy  eats  no  animal  food  for  four  days, 
and  the  plume  which  was  placed  hi  the  boy's  hair  during  the  ceremony 
is  not  removed  until  the  fourth  morning  after  the  planting  of  the  plumes, 
when  he  again  goes  over  the  road  with  his  guardian,  who  deposits  the 
plume  from  the  boy's  head  with  a  prayer,  which  is  repeated  by  the  child. 

After  this  first  initiation  he  is  allowed  several  years  to  decide  when 
he. will  take  the  Afows  made  for  him  at  this  time  by  his  godfather.  But 
the  most  .  '%  o  is  that  whick 

takes  plac  ire  accepted  as 

complete  <  unity. 


12  UCATION 

Tl  .  primitive  races,  coining  as  it  does 

at  that  period  of  life  when  ideas  and  ideals  change,  when  sacrifices  and 
ordeals  are  welcomed,  and  when  profound  impressions  may  readily 
be  produced,  marks  an  epoch  in  savage  and  barbarous  life,  the  impor- 
tance of  which  it  is  difficult  to  overestimate.  The  almost  entire 
'  lack  of  any  counterpart  of  this  ceremony  in  modern  public  education 
leaves  unused  a  field  which  is  not  unworthy  of  attention.  It  is  at  this 
period  that  the  boy  enters  a  higher  and  more  exclusive  order  of  the 
priesthood,  and  every  male  of  good  standing  in  the  community  is  usually 
a  member  of  one  or  more  of  these  secret  societies. 

The  ceremony  at  Walpi,  a  Hopi  village,  and  one  of  the  most  primi- 
tive, is  as  follows:  The  initiation  takes  place  when  there  are  enough 
candidates,  or  about  once  in  four  years,  during  the  November  moon. 
In  former  times,  when  the  number  of  inhabitants  was  greater,  it  took 
place  annually.  The  actual  initiation  requires  nine  days,  and  is  pre- 
ceded by  several  days  of  preparation,  which  includes  making  of  para- 
phernalia, bringing  wood,  preparing  the  altars  in  the  Kivas,  songs, 
prayers  and  rehearsals. 

Just  at  sundown  of  the  first  day  the  novices  are  brought  to  the 
Kiva,  naked,  save  for  the  scant  white  kilt  fastened  around  the  loins, 
and  with  the  hair  hanging  loosely  about  the  shoulders.  Before  stepping 
on  the  hatchway  leading  down  into  the  Kiva,  the  blankets  and  moc- 
casins must  be  removed,  as  it  would  be  a  sacrilege  to  enter  its  sacred 
precincts  with  these  garments  on.  The  boys  are  carried  into  the  Kiva, 
each  holding  a  handful  of  sacred  meal  which  he  throws  on  the  fire, 
which  has  been  kindled  for  the  ceremony  by  the  ancient  fire  drill,  and 
so  is  the  sacred  fire  of  the  gods.  The  novices  are  huddled  together  on 
an  upraised  partition  of  the  chamber,  while  their  bodies  are  rubbed  with 
a  yellow  pigment.  A  black  stripe  is  made  around  the  legs  below  the 
knees,  and  two  vertical  black  lines  are  painted  on  each  cheek.  From 
this  time  the  novices,  or  Keles  as  they  are  called,  are  not  allowed  to  eat 
or  drink  for  four  days.  Just  at  midnight  a  sacred  dance  is  performed, 
and  at  sunrise  on  the  following  morning  the  boys  are  escorted,  each 
carrying  a  deer's  horn,  to  the  plaza  to  witness  a  curious  sidewise, 
shuffling  dance,  accompanied  by  stentorian  singing.  The  Keles,  still 
naked,  although  the  November  air  is  quite  crisp  in  this  highland  re- 
gion, must  give  respectful  attention  to  the  whole  ceremony.  At  the 
close  of  the  dance,  they  are  taken  back  to  the  Kiva.  Frequent  alarums, 
patrols  and  excursions  are  kept  up  throughout  this  day  to  the  surrou  id- 
ing  Mesas. 

From  this  time  the  Keles  are  not  allowed  to  see  the  sun  until  the  end 
of  the  ceremony.  Just  after  noon,  the  boys,  blindfolded,  and  forming 
a  chain,  by  each  one  clinging  to  the  blanket  of  the  preceding  one, 
are  conducted  by  the  priests  to  a  distant  portion  of  the  village,  where 


dances,  this  training  continuing  at  intervals  tnrougnout  me  initiatory 
ceremony.  On  the  third  morning  at  sunrise  they  are  taken  again  to 
witness  the  shuffling  dance  in  the  plaza.  This  time  each  novice  carries 
an  ear  of  corn  as  the  symbol  of  fertility,  and  during  the  performance 
of  this  ceremony  they  are  seated  and  kept  perfectly  quiet.  Late  in  the 
afternoon  of  this  day  they  are  dressed  like  women,  in  the  oldest,  most 
ragged  clothing  which  can  be  found ;  each  carrying  a  burden  of  some 
kind,  as  a  bundle  of  fuel,  a  loaded  basket  or  a  cradle,  and,  in  this  garb, 
dance  the  side-step  around  the  whole  village. 

Each  day  the  ceremony  becomes  more  secret  and  mysterious.  In 
the  evening  of  this  day  messengers  are  sent  along  all  the  trails  leading 
to  the  village  to  warn  all  strangers  against  approaching  the  village, 
by  sprinkling  a  line  of  prayer  meal  across  each  trail.  The  songs,  dances 
and  prayers  are  continued  throughout  the  night,  and  on  the  fourth 
morning  sentinels  are  posted  along  all  the  trails  at  a  distance  from  the 
village.  At  sunrise  the  same  shuffling  dance  is  performed,  but  instead 
of  returning  to  the  Kiva  they  pass  in  single  file  far  out  upon  the  plain 
to  a  mountain  fifteen  miles  to  the  southward.  This  time  they  are  ar- 
rayed in  the  finest  raiment  and  make  the  most  lavish  display  of  jewelry 
and  other  finery  which  the  village  affords.  They  do  not  return  from 
this  journey  until  after  dark.  While  at  the  mountain  they  dig  mobi 
to  use  in  a  purifying  process,  and  a  white  clay  to  be  used  in  decorating 
their  bodies.  Before  entering  the  Kiva  on  their  return,  they  dance  four 
times  around  the  village,  although  it  must  be  remembered  the  boys 
have  eaten  nothing  for  four  days.  On  this  night  every  house  in 
the  village  is  kept  dark.  Patrols  pace  the  streets,  making  a  terrific 
noise,  with  bells, '  shells,  cans  and  drums.  Two  of  the  priest  societies 
walk  the  streets  in  companies,  and,  as  the  night  wanes,  they  gradually 
increase  their  pace  until,  at  the  time  when  the  Pleiades  reach  the  zenith, 
they  are  rushing  around  the  village  at  a  furious  run.  This  is  kept  up 
until  Orion  is  in  the  same  position  as  on  the  preceding  night  when  the 
priests  finished  their  song.  About  an  hour  before  sunrise  the  priests 
of  these  two  societies  march  to  the  roof  of  one  of  the  Kivas;  there, 
standing  closely  wrapped  in  their  blankets,  they  sing  fine  and  solemn 
hymns.  An  hour  after  sunrise  a  fine  feast  is  spread,  at  which  the  Keles 
are  first  permitted  to  break  their  long  fast.  The  exertions  which  they 
have  undergone  constitute,  throughout,  a  terrible  ordeal.  Through 
the  sixth,  seventh  and  eighth  days  the  priests  continue  regularly 
to  instruct'  the  Keles,  while  the  different  societies  dance  in  the  Kiva 
and  plaza,  at  intervals  through  the  day.  During  the  last  days  the 
Keles  bear  the  impression  of  the  sun  painted  on  their  backs.  The 
whole  ceremony  is  concluded  by  processions,  dances,  songs  and  long 
prayers  to  the  gods  to  aid  the  boys  in  walking  in  "  the,  straight  path  " 


of  Hopi  morality.     The  Hopi  Indians  have  an   initiatory  ceremony 

for  the  maidens,  which   in   some  respects   resembles    the  one   just 

described. 

/  Ordeals  and  the  learning  of  intricate  rites  and  ceremonies,  together 

/with  the  body  of  lore  which  is  the  property  of  a  given  society,  character- 

f  ize  all  initiations. 

The  initiations  are  for  the  purpose  of  finishing  the  boy,  as  the  Pueblos 
express  it,  but,  like  our  commencements,  they  are  generally  the  beginning 
of  a  life  of  hardship,  of  penance  and  self-mortification,  and  as  the  priests 
are  the  conservers  of  the  lore  of  this  people,  in  order  that  it  be  free 
from  error  and  variation,  great  care  must  be  exercised  in  transmitting 
it  from  the  priests  to  the  novices. 

The  songs,  prayers,  dances  and  other  rites  must  be  exact,  even  to  the 
slightest  details,  in  order  to  be  efficacious,  and  it  follows  that,  in  order 
to  learn  them  in  this  precise  way,  years  of  practice  are  necessary.  The 
Kivas  thus  become  their  schoolhouses  as  well  as  their  temples.  To 
the  Pueblo  none  of  these  rites  or  ceremonies  are  meaningless.  Each  one 
has  its  origin  in  the  teaching  of  some  god  or  culture  hero,  or  are  the 
dramatization  of  some  important  event  related  in  their  traditions. 

The  Pueblos  generally  believe  in  these  traditions  as  they  believe  in 

their  own    existence,  and    careful    students    quite  generally  concede 

tV»o4-         .,  if  not  all,  of  these  tales  have  some  foundation  in  fact,  which 

n  has  clothed  in  the  fanciful  garb  which  his  superstition  has 

)und  them,  and  the  uncertainty  of  the  distant  past  has  so  in- 

:he  glamour  that  it  is  almost  impossible  to  separate  fact  from 

The  Indian  explains  all  phenomena  in   his  own  way;  the 

of  life  and  death,  together  with  the  phenomena  of  nature, 

escaped  him,  and  he  has  an  explanation  for  each  which 

y  satisfies  him. 

IT  eblos  had  at  the  time  of  their  discovery  reached  that  stage  in 

it  of  the  great  body  of  lore  had  passed  slowly  but  surely  into 

of  the  priesthood,  and  the  religious  instruction  of  the  youth 

given  almost  entirely  over  to  his  care. 

portant  to  note  here  that  the  method  of  instruction  is  the 

le  industrial,  moral  and  religious  spheres /—  a  method  wrn'ch 

aims  at  an  exact  reproduction  of  the  skill  or  wisdom  in  the  possession 

of  the  tribe  by  generation  after  generation.     The  ideal  attainment  does 

not  go  beyond  the  wisdom  of  their  fathers.     The  method  has  been  dwelt 

on  at  some  length  in  the  industrial  sphere,  and  what  was  stated  of  it 

there  holds  true  in  the  learning  of  religious  lore,  rites  or  ceremonies. 

The  model  is  brought  before  the  pupil,  and  he  is  expected  by  repeated 

trials  to  reproduce  it  exactly.     Thus,  if  a  song  or  tale  is  to  be  learned, 

there  are  no  explanations.    The  song  is  sung  or  the  tale  recited  by  the 

master  priest,  and  the  pupil  learns  it  by  repeating  it  again  and  again, 


THE  SOCIAL  ORIGIN  OF  EDUCATIVE  AGENCIES        17 

The  Social  Nature  of  Education  as  seen  in  Primitive  Life 

The  efforts  of  present-day  savage  and  barbarous  peoples  to  instruct 
their  children  throw  interesting  light  upon  the  social  nature  and  social 
relations  of  educational  agencies.  In  these  early  and  relatively  simple 
stages  of  social  development,  the_schoo^jiQ£a4iot  exist  .as^ 


institution.    Tli§_ejQtir^^  more  or  less  actively  interested 

in  the  training_pj  Jhe  childrea.  After  the  school  has  been  set  off,  or 
institutionalized,  this  social  connection  is  not  always  so  clear.  It  is 
probably  true,  however,  and  a  study  of  primitive  education  helps 
us  to  see  it,  that  in  complex  as  well  as  in  simple  societies  all  types  of 
educational  activity  are  responses  to  some  more  or  less  genuine  social 
needs.  In  primitive  society,  especially,  it  would  be  impossible  for 
j  la  tribe  to  survive  long  if  the  education  afforded  its  children  were  widely 
'  'divergent  from  the  needs  of  the  life  process.  In^sgjoe^jEs^yJJiey  jnust 
learn  Jo_  use  the  implements  oi-theJiunt  and  of  warfare.  They  must 
learn  those  lessons  of  tribal  custom  a.n(l  religion  whirh  wj]]  iflsijT*  t,h* 
stability  and  solidarity  of  the  gfonp.  If  the  simple  arts-pf  a  barbaric 
(I  /society  were  not  in  some  way  preserved  in  each  new  generation,  that 
society  would  soon  drop  back  to  the  level  of  brute  life.  .Some  form  of 
education,  then,  however  crude  and  haphazard,  either,  conscious 
or  unconscious,  is  necessary  even  for  unprogressive  peoples,  that  at 
least  the  existing  level  of  culture  may  be  retained. 

The  beginnings  of  human  education  were,  in  fact,  probably  quite 
unconscious.    The  social  groups  and  the  races  which  siiwri%r^  T"  the 
hard  struggle  for  life  were  the  ones  which  little  by  little  had 
ability  to  preserve  the  results  of  their  experiences  and  pa 

:ceeding  generations.    This  ability  may  have  been  fos 
developed  by  natural  selection.    The  societies  that  did  not  in 
\*way  preserve  from  generation  to  generation  the  little  culture 
nply  did  not  survive.    The  first  educiUon 

>re  than  an  extension  of  the  imitp'  ' 
some  extent  among  the  lower  animals.    It  is  a  dispv: 
as  to  whether  animals  imita.    or  not.    It  seems  not  unlik 
ever,  tl  eliverances  of  instinct  are  sometimes 

extent  supplemented  by  a  little  imitation  on  the  part  of 
The  human  bfclng  was,  at  the  first,  just  slightly  more  i 


i8  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION   - 

the  animals.  It  was,  then,  first  of  all  in  the  course  of  purely  informal 
imitative  contact  with  the  rest  of  the  group  that  the  child  became 
versed  in  the  attainments  of  his  elders. 

Familiar  social  intercourse  within  the  family  and  neighborhood  was 
not  only  the  first  channel  of  education;  it  has  continued  in  all  ages 
and  in  all  stages  of  culture  to  be  one  of  its  most  important  means. 
The  more  formal  means  have  been  but  differentiations  out  of  this  broad 
matrix  of  social  intercourse.    This  latter  gives  the  setting,  the  back- 
ground, and  determines  the  relationships  of  the  formal  agencies.     It 
fills  in  the  interstices  and  makes  up  the  deficiencies  of  these  latter. 
[  /    As  long  as  culture  is  quite  simple,  and  as  long  as  every  community 
U  in  its  life  and  industries  illustrates  practically  all  the  elements  of  this 
\nculture,  education  through  imitation  and  familiar  social  intercourse 
is  fairly  adequate.     That  is,  the  great  bulk  of  what  the  community 
knows  can  be  acquired  by  just  living  in  it  day  by  day.     However, 
there  are  nearly  always  some  few  things  to  be  done  which  require  a 
j  |icertain  amount  of  skill  that  cannot  be  acquired  unless  there  is  a  little 
/  jjconscious,  direction  of  the  learner  —  such  as  the  use  of  the  bow  and 
i    arrow  and  other  primitive  weapons  or  the  simple  arts  of  pottery  and 
'weaving.    Then,  there  are  certain  customs  and  religious  beliefs  that 
Cannot  b^Heft  entirely  to  informal  social  intercourse.     Formal  edu- 
tional  activities  grow  up  about  these  special  skills  and  customs  and 
«fs  which  seem  too  important  to  be  left  to  chance.     Formal  edu- 
n  neither  in  the  beginning,  nor  ever,  for  that  matter,  has  been 
ned  with  the  transmission  of  all  of  social  culture,  but  only  with 
•ragments,  more  or  less  arbitrarily  selected.     It  has  always  been 
*,  as  suggested  above,  to  depend  upon  informal  agencies  to 
i;aps  and  even  to  give  meaning  to  the  work  of  the  formal 

f  the  relations  of  old  and  young  in  modern  savage  and 

ieties  throws  some  light  upon  the  beginnings  of  formal 

nong  some  of  the  southeast  Australians  the  old  men 

e  said  to  gather  the  youths  about  them  at  the  evening 

istruct  them  in  the  traditions  and  usages  of  the  tribe. 

s  only  one  step  removed  from  purely  informal  social 

time  taken  for  instruction  is  that  in  which  the 

ly  gathers  about  the  fire  in  the  evening  and  talks. 


THE  SOCIAL  ORIGIN  OF  EDUCATIVE  AGENCIES        19 

The  next  step  in  the  differentiation  of  the  school  is  taken  when 
some  stated  time  is  set  apart,  often  of  several  months'  duration,  for 
initiation  ceremonies.  These  constitute  what  is  probably  the  most 
primitive  type  of  formal  schooling,  j  At  this  time  the  physical  strength 
and  self-control  of  the  youth  are  tested  in  various  ways.  He  is  taught, 
among  the  Australians,  by  the  older  men  of  the  tribe  in  all  the  mythol- 
ogy and  sacred  customs  and  ceremonies  of  his  people.  By  testing 
his  endurance  in  many  trying  ways,  they  determine  whether  he  has 
sufficient  physical  hardihood  and  mental  self-control  to  be  admitted 
into  the  society  of  adults,  and  carry  his  share  of  the  responsibilities  of 
tribal  life.  In  the  most  primitive  societies  there  is  no  special  class 
set  off  as  teachers.  The  whole  social  group  takes  a  hand  in  the  instruc- 
tion, or,  possibly,  the  group  as  represented  in  the  old  men.  Respect 
for  the  old  men  is  illustrated  by  the  following  words  of  Spencer  and 
Gillen  with  reference  to  the  central  Australians.  "  It  may  be  noted 
here  that  the  deference  paid  to  the  old  men  during  the  tTeremonies  of 
examining  the  churinga  is  most  marked;  no  young  man  thinks  of 
speaking  unless  he  be  first  addressed  by  one  of  the  older  men,  and 
then  he  listens  solemnly  to  all  that  the  latter  tells  him.  .  .  .  The 
old  man  just  referred  to  was  especially  looked  up  to  as  an  oknirabata, 
or  great  instructor,  a  term  which  is  only  applied,  as  in  thli>  case,  to 
men  who  are  not  only  old,  but  learned  in  all  the  customs  and  tra- 
ditions of  the  tribe,  and  whose  influence  is  well  seen  at  the  ceremonies 
.  .  .  where  the  greatest  deference  is  paid  them.  A  man  may  be  old, 
very  old  indeed,  but  yet  never  attain  to  the  rank  of  oknirabata" 

Thomas  says:  "  The  educational  system  of  the  savage  was  designed 
to  secure  the  solidarity  of  the  group,  not  to  convey  a  body  of  exact 
knowledge.  The  formal  instruction  was  mainly  moral;  the  occupa- 
tional practice  was  picked  up  unformally.  The  food  regulations  of 
the  Australians  are  a  striking  example  of  the  thoroughness  with  which 
the  moral  instructions  were  imparted."  l 

The  first  point  of  importance  is,  then,  that  educational  processes 
are-  from  the  first,  social  processes,  phases  of  social  activity  to  secure 
>olidarity  of  the  group  atid  to  maintain  its  status  quo.  They  re- 
flect more  or  less  genuine  and  insistent  social  needs.  In  a  primitive 
society  it  would  be  inconceivable  that  educational  practices  should 

.warce  Book  of  Social  Origins,  p.  316  f. 


20  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

have  to  do  with  that  which  is  merely  accessory,  with  the  superfl1 
of  culture,  as  it  were.  Of  course,  the  initiation  ceremonies  and  Uiw 
elaborate  customs  and  mythologies  may  seem  to  us  as  the  very  height 
of  the  impractical  and  unnecessary.  Judged,  however,  with  reference 
to  the  results  within  the  groups,  we  see  that  they  do  have  very  great 
social  significance.  From  the'  point  of  view  of  moral  character  alone 
it  is  doubtful  whether  the  educational  activities  of  the  higher,  races 
are  as  efficacious  as  those  of  savages.  The  content  of  their  instruc- 
tion is  quite  different  from  ours,  and  yet  excellence  of  moral  character 
and  social  efficiency  do  not  seem  to  depend  altogether  upon  the  con- 
tent taught,  —  rather  upon  certain  other  conditions,  —  among  which 
must  be  included  the  intimate  relation  of  the  whole  process  of  edu- 
cation to  the  social  group  itself. 

The  secondjapint  is  that  when  social  culture  becomes  complex, 
familiar  social  intercourse  is  no  longer  adequate,  and  certain  phases 
are  selected  *»fe  for  special  attention.  At  this  point,  formal  agencies 
of  instruction  begin  to  differentiate.  These  are  to  be  regarded  as 
phases  of  the  division  of  labor  which  are  increasingly  necessary  as 
society  passes  from  the  primitive  levels.  The  school  as  an  institution 
and  teaching  as  a  profession  are  products  of  the  inevitable  differentia- 
tions of  progressive  societies.  As  has  been  said  above,  every  edu- 
cational activity  is  a  response  to  some  need  felt  more  or  less  definitely 
by  the  social  body  within  which  the  undertaking  occurs.  This  is 
true  even  where  it  is  maintained  by  private  enterprise.  There  is  al- 
ways an  organic  relation  to  a  social  background  of  some  sort.  This 
is  true  at  least  in  the  initial  phases  of  an  educational  enterprise.  It  is 
to  be  noted,  however,  that  as  soon  as  a  school  becomes  organized  with 
reference  to  meeting  a  certain  need,  it  almost  inevitably  acquires 
\  an  inertia  or  an  irresponsiveness  to  the  further  demands  of  this  social 
background.  It  loses  its  direct  touch  with  the  social  matrix  and 
develops  a  momentum  of  its  own,  irrespective  of  other  social  neces- 
sities which,  in  the  meantime,  may  have  come  to  the  front.  That  is 
to  say,  an  institution,  as  well  as  a  person,  may  acquire  habits  and 
become  relatively  irresponsive  to  new  situations  and  needs.  In 
proportion  as  a  school,  whether  supported  by  public  or  private  funds, 
becomes  definitely  organized  and  continues  its  work  for  a  consider- 
able period  of  time,  its  activities  and  ideals  tend  to  become  more  or 


THE  SOCIAL  ORIGIN  OF  EDUCATIVE  AGENCIES        21 

le  ^  %ed.  In  a  progressive,  or  at  least  in  a  rapidly  changing,  society 
jt  is  thus  easy  for  established  educational  agencies  to  lose  touch  with 
the  social  matrix  from  which  they  spring.  One  of  the  most  perplexing 
and  difficult  problems  of  the  modern  school,  looking  at  it  from  the 
social  side,  is  how  to  keep  it  wisely  responsive  to  changes  and  develop- 
ments in  social  needs.  As  we  have  seen,  this  problem  is  nonexistent 
for  older  types  of  society.  It  is  distinctly  a  modern  difficulty.  Only 
in  comparatively  recent  times  has  social  change  been  very  rapid. 
Thus  we  have  on  our  hands  to-day  the  educational  institutions  devel- 
oped with  reference  to  the  demands  of  a  much  simpler  and  more  static 
social  order.  Our  present-day  public  elementary  schools  are  pre- 
dominantly expressions  of  "the  needs  felt  by  a  colonial  and  pioneer 
society,  the  need  of  instruction  in  the  rudiments  of  polite  culture  — 
reading,  writing  and  arithmetic.  Other  phases  of  pioneer  culture  were 
readily  transmitted  by  informal  means  within  and  without  the  home. 
In  fact,  the  whole  social  fabric  and  its  culture  was  so  simple  that  it 
was  comparatively  easy  for  a  bright,  energetic  boy  to  get  all  of  the  best 
in  it  with  a  minimum  of  formal  schooling.  This  tended  to  foster  the 
notion,  and  it  has  widely  prevailed,  that  schooling,  after  all,  was  not 
necessary  to  a  useful  life.  If  that  were  ever  possible,  it  was  only  in 
the  simple  society  of  pioneer  times.  It  would  be  all  but  impossible 
for  a  child  to  obtain  any  practical  working  acquaintance  with  the 
knowledge  of  the  present  generation  without  the  assistance  of  some 
form  of  training. 

The  question  that  now  confronts  us  is  that  of  how  to  secure  to  a 
rapidly  changing  and  possibly  progressive  social  organization  the 
maximum  of  good  from  its  educational  agencies ;  how  to  make  them 
true  instruments  of  progress.  Manifestly,  it  is  important  that  the 
educational  agencies  of  modern  peoples  should  be  closely  associated 
with  social  requirements  more  important,  indeed,  than  in  the  case  of 
primitive  peoples.  In  pointing  out  this  need  for  a  responsiveness, 
or  sympathetic  relation  between  the  school  and  its  environment,  we 
nrp  mindful  that  this  may  easily  go  too  far.  Social  changes  are  often 
fitful  and  evanescent,  and  certainly  not  always  in  the  line  of  real  prog- 
ress. There  could 'be  no  greater  mistake  on  the  part  of  the  school  Ik 
than  to  yield  to  every  demand  from  the  social  environment  for  a  3 
modification  of  its  practice.  The  school  should  not  be  a  blind  slave  \ 


22  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

of  society,  yielding,  hither  and  thither,  in  this  way  and  that,  to  every 
push  from  without,  neither  can  it  be  autocratic  and  altogether  self- 
determining.  Jt  is  a  tool  for  performing  a  certain  specialized  function. 
It  is  anjnstitution,  the  expression  to  some  extent  of  intelligent  pur- 
pose, and  in  the  performance  of  its  function  it  should  be  controlled 
in  a  measure  from  within  by  a  wise  appreciation  of  its  relation  to  so- 
ciety. Beginning  in  an  almost  unconscious  response  to  needs  little 
removed  from  the  animal  level,  educational  agencies  have  developed 
into  mighty  social  institutions.  The  time  has  come  when  these 
activities  should  cease  to  be  unreflective,  when  they  should  be  directed 
more  and  more  in  the  light  of  a  farsighted  and  enlightened  view  of 
real  social  needs  as  over  against  what  may  be  mere  passing  whims  and 
fancies.  Those  engaged  in  educational  work  are  constituent  parts  of 
society,  and  it  is  as  much,  if  not  more,  incumbent  upon  them  to  study 
social  currents  or  tendencies  and  to  try  to  evaluate  them  according  to 
adequate  standards  as  it  is  for  any  other  members  of  society.  The 
administrators  and  conductors  of  the  teaching  function  will  in  some 
respects  rise  slightly  above  the  average  level  of  the  rest  of  society. 
They  should  be  trained  to  understand  social  movements  and  needs, 
and  should  be  able  to  adjust  their  work  so  as  to  help  that  which  is 
best  in  the  social  body  to  be  adequately  realized.  The  school  should 
be  adapted  to  the  specific  needs  of  the  community  which  support  it, 
and  yet  it  should  be  a  little  ahead  of  it,  the  conscious  exponent  of  the 
ideals  which  are  more  or  less  vaguely  struggling  for  expression,  thus 
helping  the  community  to  become  conscious  of  and  to  realize  its  best, 
its  most  worthy,  aspirations. 

We  can  best  make  clear  the  principle  we  have  been  outlining  by 
studying  the  rural  school  problem.  In  the  following  sections  the 
problem  will  be  that  of  defining  more  specifically  the  needs  of  present- 
day  American  communities  which  the  educational  agencies  should 
try  in  some  measure  to  meet  and  what  is  actually  being  done  in  some 
places  tc/realize  these  broader  educational  functions. 

PROBLEMS    FOR   STUDY   AND    DISCUSSION 

i.  Find  illustrations  in  the  present-day  curriculum  of  the  irre- 
sponsiveness  of  the  school  to  social  needs:  e.g.\(a)  the  insistence 
upon  formal  studies  or  the  ancient  classics  to  the  exclusion  of  those 


THE   SOCIAL  ORIGIN  OF  EDUCATIVE  AGi- 

*>    tk 
preparing  for  a  vocation ;  (6)  the  various  antiquated  aspects  o. 

nized  subjects  in  the  curriculum,  as  in  geography,  arithmetic,  gran. 

2.  Evidence  of  a  failure  to  recognize  the  importance  of  person, 
initiative  in  learning. 

3.  Tendency  toward  formation  of  new  schools.    Why  should  new 
social  needs  be  so  often  met  first  by  private  enterprise  ? 

4.  Is  the  formation  of  new  schools  to  meet  new  needs  paralleled 
in  religion  or  politics  in  the  new  religious  sects  and  new  political 
parties  ? 

5.  Why  do  not  new  needs  find  more  ready  satisfaction  through  old 
institutions?  0 

6.  Show   that   Spartan  and  Athenian   education  was   definitely 
worked  out  with  reference  to  certain  social  ideals.      So  of  other 
ancient  peoples. 

REFERENCES  ON  PRIMITIVE  TYPES  OF  EDUCATION 

HOWITT,  ALFRED.  Native  Tribes  of  Southeast  Australia,  p.  529  ff. 
etal. 

SPENCER,  BALDWIN  AND  GILLEN.  Native  Tribes  of  Central  Australia, 
pp.  212-230,  271-286,  et  al. 

STEVENSON,  M.  C.  "The  Religious  Life  of  the  Zuiii  Child,"  Fifth 
Annual  Report  of  the  Bureau  of  Ethnology,  p.  9  ff. 

SPENCER,  FRANK.  Education  of  the  Pueblo  Child.  Columbia  Con- 
tributions to  Education. 

THOMAS,  W.  I.  Source  Book  of  Social  Origins.  Quotes  most  of 
the  important  material  from  Howitt,  Spencer  and  Gillen,  and 
others. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  SOCIAL  RESPONSIBILITY  OF  THE   SCHOOL,  THE  RURAL  SITUATION 

Introductory  Statement 

Current  Extensions  in  the  Meaning  and  Scope  of  Education:  Their 
Social  Significance 

As  we  have  said,  the  school  has  a  double  social  meaning.  It  is 
an  instrument  used  by  society  for  the  education  of  the  community ; 
it  is,  moreover,  in  itself  a  little  society.  Quite  different  types  of  prob- 
lems cluster  about  these  two  aspects.  The  latter  aspect  will  be  treated 
in  a  later  section  of  this  Source  Book.  •  The  former  we  shall  take  up 
now. 

The  traditional  work  of  the  school  in  the  intellectual  training  of 
children  is  of  course  very  important  from  the  point  of  view  of  society. 
This  service  of  the  school  has  been  the  subject  matter  of  much  educa- 
tional literature  in  the  past,  and  we  need  not  here  discuss  it  further. 
We  are  here  concerned  rather  to  note  the  current  broadening  concep- 
tions of  the  meaning  and  scope  of  education  and  its  relation  to  social 
progress  and  social  reform.  "  Gradually  there  [has  grown]  into 
shape  the  idea  that  the  school  should  minister  to  other  needs  of  the 
community  besides  the  purely  [i.e.  traditionally]  educational." 

In  the  following  sections  we  shall  study  various  extensions  of  the 
work  of  the  schools,  extensions  which  carry  them  far  beyond  their 
legitimate  scope  as  recognized  by  tradition.  One  of  the  problems  to 
consider  will  be  whether  these  extensions  of  school  activity  are  so- 
cially justifiable,  and  whether,  if  they  are,  they  may  be  considered  as 
falling  within  the  proper  scope  of  the  community's  educational  en- 
terprises. 

We  shall  start  with  the  conception  of  education  as  a  response  to 
more  or  less  specific  social  needs.  From  this  point  of  view  we  shall 

24 


THE  SOCIAL  RESPONSIBILITY  OF  THE  SCHOOL         25 

study  the  current  active  interest  in  the  reconstruction  of  rural  edu- 
cation.   This  will  open  to  us  the  general  problem  of  bringing  the  home 
and  school  closer  together,  first  of  all  through  different  types  of  Home 
and  School  Associations.     The  next  point  naturally  follows:    the 
utilization  of  the  school  plant  in  various  ways  for  the  social  good  of 
the  community,  the  problem  of  controlling  and  developing  to  some 
extent  its  social  life  and  continuing  the  education  of  the  community 
after  the  traditional  school  period,  through  lectures,  continuation 
schools  and  evening  schools.    Still  another  aspect  of  current  school 
extension  is  to  be  found  in  the  playground  movement,  the  develop- 
ment of  vacation  schools  and  of   school  gardening  systems.    These 
enterprises  should  all  be  considered  from  the  point  of  view  of  their 
broad  significance  for  both  social  amelioration  and  social  progress. 
No  phase  of  modern  education  is  exciting  more  attention  than  that 
which  concerns  training  for  vocations.     Closely  associated  with  this 
and  its  logical  outcome  is  the  comparatively  new  movement  of  vo- 
cational guidance.    The  social  importance  of  this  work  is  so  great 
that  we  are  justified  in  devoting  much  space  to  it.    Last  of  all,  in  the 
light  of  these  vast  extensions  of  the  scope  of  educational  ideals  and 
practices,  we  shall  attempt  to  state  the  principles  underlying  the  rela- 
tion of  education  to  social  progress  and  reform. 

Introduction  to   the   Rural    Situation  and    the   Rural    School 

Problem 

For  several  reasons  the  rural  situation  in  America  presents  an  in- 
teresting point  at  which  to  begin  the  study  of  the  social  relations 
of  current  education.  The  rural  community  forms  a  fairly  distin- 
guishable type  within  our  social  body.  It  has  its  distinctive  economic 
problems,  and  from  meeting  these  problems  distinctive  social  and  men- 
tal characteristics  have  been  developed.  The  rural  community  de- 
mands, therefore,  a  form  of  education  particularly  adapted  to  itself, 
its  problems,  its  needs,  its  special  type  of  social  life.  Moreover,  at 
the  present  time  the  prevailing  type  of  rural  education  is  peculiarly 
isolated  from  the  community ;  it  is  peculiarly  ill-adjusted  to  the  actual 
needs  of  the  social  body  which  contributes  to  its  support.  '  r 

Such,  however,  was  not  the  case  in  the  earlier  periods  of  our  coun- 
try's history.  "  The  rural  school  of  the  early  days,  considering  the 


26  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

needs  of  almost  pioneer  conditions,  was  efficient.  It  was  efficient 
largely  because  it  was  closely  linked  with  the  life  of  the  community 
in  most  of  its  interests.  The  men  of  the  community  turned  out  and 
together  built  the  schoolhouse.  The  teacher  was  a  member  of  the 
neighborhood  group,  literally  living  with  them,  for  he  generally  spent 
a  part  of  the  year  in  each  home.1  Young  men  and  women  between 
the  ages  of  sixteen  and  twenty-one  attended  the  school.  The  weekly 
literary  society  and  frequent  '  spelling  bees  '  contributed  to  the  social 
life  of  the  community  with  the  school  as  the  center. 

"  Gradually  the  rural  school  has  lost  its  hold  upon  the  community. 
One  by  one  the  interests  which  brought  the  people  and  the  school  to- 
gether have  ceased.  Along  with  these  interests  has  disappeared  much 
educational  efficiency.  But  the  traditions  which  grew  up  with  the 
little  one-room  schoolhouse  have  persisted."  2 

For  the  continued  stability  and  efficiency  of  the  rural  population 
it  is  unquestionably  needful  that  the  rural  schools  should  be  true  and 
sympathetic  interpreters  of  rural  life.  They  should  aim  constantly 
to  develop  in  country  boys  and  girls  a  hearty  appreciation  of  country 
life  and  of  the  possibilities  afforded  by  that  life  for  the  exercise  of  the 
most  varied  abilities,  for  the  play  of  the  highest  type  of  intelligence. 
They  should  ever  set  before  the  children  the  ideal  that  a  career  in  the 
country  is  in  no  wise  inferior  to  other  careers  for  bright  boys  and  girls  ; 
that,  indeed,  opportunities  in  the  country  are  both  interesting  and 
important,  whether  from  the  point  of  view  of  personal  development, 
personal  enjoyment  and  health,  or  of  public  service.  As  every  one 
knows,  however,  the  rural  schools  have  conspicuously  failed  to  do  these 
things.  Instead  of  educating  boys  and  girls  to  an  appreciation  of 
country  life,  they  have  tended  to  create  a  distaste  for  that  life,  they 
have  literally  educated  the  brighter  country  youth  away  from  their 
natural  sphere  of  activity.  In  the  words  of  Sir  Horace  Plunkett, 
"  At  present,  the  country  children  are  educated  as  if  for  the  purpose 
of  driving  them  into  the  towns." 

The  causes  for  this  as  far  as  the  schools  are  concerned  are  manifold  ; 
among  them  may  be  mentioned  inexperienced  teachers  educated  in 

1  See  Monroe's  Cyclopedia  of  Education,  article,  "Boarding  Around." 

2  B.  M.  Davis,  "The  General  Problem  of  the  Relation  of  the  Rural  School  to  the  Commu- 
nity Needs,"  Tenth  Yearbook  of  the  National  Society  for  the  Study  of  Education,  Part  II,  p.  60. 


THE  SOCIAL  RESPONSIBILITY  OF  THE  SCHOOL         27 

the  cities,  unacquainted  with,  and  hence  unappreciative  of,  country 
life,  teachers  who  look  upon  their  country  experience  as  a  probation 
leading  to  socially  more  desirable  and  better  paid  positions  in  the 
city.  Such  teachers  inevitably  turn  the  attention  of  their  pupils  to 
the  city  as  the  most  desirable  place  for  a  career.  Then,  again,  the 
formal,  predominantly  intellectual  studies  taught  in  the  rural  school 
contribute  little  or  nothing  to  the  opening  of  the  children's  minds  to 
an  appreciation  of  the  interests  of  country  life.  These  interests,  in 
fact,  receive  no  definite  recognition  in  the  traditional  and  still  preva- 
lent country  schools.  Again,  the  wretched  quality  of  the  teaching 
turns  the  best  youths  to  the  improved  modern  schools  of  the  urban 
communities. 

The  fact  that  the  rural  population,  as  far  as  mere  numbers  are  con- 
cerned, has  not  kept  pace  with  the  urban  is  the  best  evidence  that  the 
forces  at  work  in  the  country  are  unfavorable  to  the  proper  develop- 
ment of  country  life.  There  are  many  causes  in  addition  to  inade- 
quate and  false  educational  ideals  which  have  contributed  to  the  rapid 
exodus  from  the  country  to  the  city.  Not  many  years  since,  the  prices 
of  farm  products  were  so  low  that  even  the  hard-working  farmer  could 
only  with  great  difficulty  pay  for  his  farm  and  support  and  educate 
his  family.  At  its  best,  the  life  on  the  average  farm  was  full  of 
hardships,  and  the  common  comforts  of  existence  seemed  forever 
just  out  of  reach.  Better  prices  for  farm  products  and  the  present 
gradual  introduction  into  the  country  of  some  of  the  basic  com- 
forts of  life  that  have  hitherto  been  the  exclusive  property  of  the 
city,  improved  methods  of  work,  which  relieve  all  members  of  the 
family  of  at  least  a  part  of  the  exhausting  drudgery  hitherto  attend- 
ant upon  farm  life,  are  doing  much  to  make  country  life  more 
attractive. 

One  aspect  of  country  life  which  has  undoubtedly  contributed  much 
to  drive  people  to  the  city  has  been  its  isolation,  its  deplorable  lack 
of  opportunity  for  healthful  social  enjoyment.  Country  people  are 
not,  however,  naturally  unsociable.  In  the  earlier  days  country  life 
was  certainly  not  lacking  in  this  respect.  It  is  the  shifting,  unstable 
character  of  the  rural  population  of  the  second  and  third  generation 
and  the  glamour  of  the  amusements  offered  by  the  city  that  have 
brought  about  a  gradual  disintegration  of  the  social  life  of  the  country. 


28  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

At  the  present  time,  skilled  social  workers  are  giving  attention  to  ways 
of  meeting  this  need.1 

It  is  certain  that  the  maintenance  of  comfortable,  contented  and 
rapidly  increasing  rural  communities  is  absolutely  essential  to  the 
stability  of  society  as  a  whole.  Already  the  urban  population  has 
so  far  outrun  the  rural  that  our  country  is  in  a  condition  of  ex- 
tremely unstable  equilibrium.  Literally,  there  are  not  enough 
people  engaged  in  producing  foodstuffs  to  support  the  rapidly  en- 
larging cities.  The  development  of  an  attractive  and  profitable 
country  life  is  then  a  crying  social  need.  The  rural  schools  have 
a  most  important  part  to  play  in  the  solution  of  this  problem,  al- 
though they  cannot,  of  course,  do  all.  There  are  already  many  excel- 
lent attempts  on  the  part  of  the  schools  in  certain  communities  to 
do  something  along  much-needed  lines.  The  important  thing,  just 
now,  is  to  familiarize  rural  communities  in  general  with  what  is  being 
done,  in  certain  places,  to  educate  them  up  to  the  point  at  which  they 
will  demand  similar  services.  Every  one  who  has  made  an  investiga- 
tion of  the  subject  notes  the  indifference  which  prevails  so  largely  over 
the  country  toward  the  most  needed  improvements.  It  is  to  be  hoped 
that  better  prices  for  farm  products  and  farm  lands  will  attract  larger 
and  larger  numbers  of  energetic  and  trained  young  men  and  women  to 
farm  life.  If  such  a  movement  can  once  be  set  up,  it  will  inevitably 
react  upon  the  schools,  which  will  in  turn  be  able  to  operate  in  many 
ways  to  render  the  life  more  interesting. 

The  chief  lines  along  which  efforts  are  being  expended  to-day  are  as 
follows :  — 

(a)  Development  of  a  course  of  study  for  the  country  schools  which 
will  furnish  more  definite  preparation  for  country  life  and  for  the  vari- 
ous phases  of  agriculture  and  animal  husbandry. 

(ft)  The  securing  of  teachers  who  will  be  more  thoroughly  in  sym- 
pathy and  more  thoroughly  acquainted  with  farm  life  and  farm 
problems. 

(c)  The  development  of  the  school  as  a  center  of  social  and  in- 
tellectual life  in  the  community. 

1  See  Stern's  Neighborhood  Entertainments  in  the  Young  Farmer's  Series.  The  entire 
series  is  worthy  of  attention  to  one  interested  in  rural  amelioration.  New  York,  Sturgis  & 
Walton. 


THE  SOCIAL  RESPONSIBILITY  OF  THE  SCHOOL        29 

(d)  The  development  of  the  agricultural  high  school. 

(e)  Organization  of  boys'  and  girls'  farm  clubs. 
(/*)  Extension  of  rural  libraries. 

(g)  Consolidated  rural  schools. 

Experiments  thus  far  are  largely  tentative,  but  are  most  worthy  of 
study.  In  the  source  material  which  follows,  these  problems  are 
further  outlined,  and  illustrations  of  practical  work  are  offered.  In 
connection  with  the  study  of  this  material  and  of  the  problems  which 
follow,  the  student  should  try  to  determine  in  his  own  mind  the  most 
promising  lines  of  development  and  the  ones  which,  under  existing 
conditions  are  most  practicable. 

The  Hesperia  Movement 

The  gulf  between  parent  and  teacher  is  too  common  a  phenomenon 
to  need  exposition.  The  existence  of  the  chasm  is  probably  due  more 
to  carelessness,  to  the  pressure  of  time,  or  to  indolence  than  to  any  more 
serious  delinquencies ;  yet  all  will  admit  the  disastrous  effects  that  flow 
from  the  fact  that  there  is  not  the  close  intellectual  and  spiritual  sympa- 
thy that  there  should  be  between  the  school  and  the  home.  It  needs  no 
argument  to  demonstrate  the  value  of  any  movement  that  has  for  its 
purpose  the  bridging  of  the  gulf.  But  it  is  an  omen  of  encouragement 
to  find  that  there  are  forces  at  work  designed  to  bring  teacher  and 
school  patron  into  a  closer  working  harmony.  A  statement  of  the 
history  and  methods  of  some  of  these  agencies  may  therefore  well  have 
a  place  in  a  discussion  of  rural  progress,  for  the  movements  to  be 
described  are  essentially  rural  school  movements.  Of  first  interest  is 
an  attempt  which  has  been  made  in  the  state  of  Michigan  to  bridge 
the  gulf  —  to  create  a  common  standing  ground  for  both  teacher  and 
parent  —  and  on  that  basis  to  carry  on  an  educational  campaign  that 
it  is  hoped  will  result  in  the  many  desirable  conditions  which,  a  priori, 
might  be  expected  from  such  a  union.  At  present  the  movement  is 
confined  practically  to  the  rural  schools,  yjt  consists  in  the  organiza- 
tion of  a  county  Teachers  and  Patrons'  Association,  with  a  membership 
of  teachers  and  school  patrons,  properly  officered.  Its  chief  method 
of  work  is  to  hold  one  or  more  meetings  a  year,  usually  in  the  country 
or  in  small  villages,  and  the  program  is  designed  to  cover  educa- 
tional questions  in  such  a  way  as  to  be  of  interest  and  profit  to  both 
teachers  and  farmers. 

This  movement  was  indigenous  to  Michigan  —  its  founders  worked 
out  the  scheme  on  their  own  initiative,  and  to  this  day  its  promoters 
have  never  drawn  upon  any  resources  outside  the  state  for  suggestion 


3o  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

or  plan.  But  if  the  friends  of  rural  education  elsewhere  shall  be  at- 
tracted by  this  method  of  solving  one  of  the  vexed  phases  of  their  prob- 
lem, I  hope  that  they  will  describe  it  as  "  the  Hesperia  movement." 
For  the  movement  originated  in  Hesperia,  was  developed  there,  and  its 
entire  success  in  Hesperia  was  the  reason  for  its  further  adoption. 
Hesperia  deserves  any  renown  that  may  chance  to  come  from  the 
widespread  organization  of  Teachers  and  Patrons'  Associations. 

And  where  is  Hesperia?  It  lies  about  forty  miles  north  and  west  of 
Grand  Rapids  —  a  mere  dot  of  a  town,  a  small  country  village  at  least 
twelve  or  fifteen  miles  from  any  railroad.  It  is  on  the  extreme  eastern 
side  of  Oceana  County,  surrounded  by  fertile  farming  lands,  which 
have  been  populated  by  a  class  of  people  who  may  be  taken  as  a  type 
of  progressive,  successful,  intelligent  American  farmers.  Many  of 
them  are  of  Scotch  origin,.  Partly  because  of  their  native  energy, 
partly,  perhaps,  because  their  isolation  made  it  necessary  to  develop 
their  own  institutions,  these  people  believe  in  and  support  good  schools, 
the  Grange,  and  many  progressive  movements. 

For  several  years  there  had  existed  in  Oceana  County  the  usual 
county  teachers'  association.  But,  because  Hesperia  was  so  far  from 
the  center  of  the  county,  the  teachers  who  taught  schools  in  the  vicinity 
could  rarely  secure  a  meeting  of  the  association  at  Hesperia;  and  in 
turn  they  found  it  difficult  to  attend  the  meetings  held  in  the  western 
part  of  the  county.  A  few  years  ago  it  chanced  that  this  group  of 
teachers  was  composed  of  especially  bright,  energetic,  and  original 
young  men  and  women.  They  determined  to  have  an  association  of 
their  own.  It  occurred  to  some  one  that  it  would  add  strength  to  their 
organization  if  the  farmers  were  asked  to  meet  with  them.  The  idea 
seemed  to  "  take,"  and  the  meetings  became  quite  popular.  This 
was  during  the  winter  of  1885-1886.  Special  credit  for  this  early 
venture  belongs  to  Mr.  E.  L.  Brooks,  still  of  Hesperia  and  an  ex-presi- 
dent of  the  present  association,  and  to  Dr.  C.  N.  Sowers,  of  Benton 
Harbor,  Mich.,  who  was  one  of  the  teachers  during  the  winter  named, 
and  who  was  elected  secretary  of  the  Board  of  School  Examiners  in 
1887.  Mr.  Brooks  writes:  — 

"The  programs  were  so  arranged  that  the  participants  in  discus- 
sions and  in  the  reading  of  papers  were  about  equally  divided  between 
teachers  and  patrons.  An  active  interest  was  awakened  from  the  start. 
For  one  thing,  it  furnished  a  needed  social  gathering  during  the  winter 
for  the  farmers.  The  meetings  were  held  on  Saturdays,  and  the  school- 
house  favored  was  usually  well  filled.  The  meetings  were  not  held  at 
only  one  schoolhouse  but  were  made  to  circulate  among  the  different 
schools.  These  gatherings  were  so  successful  that  similar  societies 
were  organized  in  other  portions  of  the  county." 


THE  SOCIAL  RESPONSIBILITY  OF  THE  SCHOOL         31 

In  1892,  Mr.  D.  E.  McClure,  who  has  since  (1896-1900)  been  deputy 
superintendent  of  public  instruction  of  Michigan,  was  selected  county- 
school  commissioner  of  Oceana  County.  Mr.  McClure  is  a  man  of 
great  enthusiasm  and  made  a  most  successful  commissioner.  He  con- 
ceived the  idea  that  this  union  of  teachers  and  patrons  could  be  made 
of  the  greatest  value,  in  stimulating  both  teachers  and  farmer&4p  re- 
newed interest  in  the  real  welfare  of  the  children  as  well  as  a  means 
of  securing  needed  reforms.  His  first  effort  was  to  prepare  a  list 
of  books  suitable  for  pupils  in  all  grades  of  the  rural  schools.  He 
also  prepared  a  rural  lecture  course,  as  well  as  a  plan  for  securing 
libraries  for  the  schools.  All  these  propositions  were  adopted  by  a 
union  meeting  of  teachers  and  farmers.  His  next  step  was  to  unite  the 
interests  of  eastern  Oceana  County  and  Western  Newaygo  County 
(Newaygo  lying  directly  east  of  Oceana),  and  in  1893  there  was  organ- 
ized the  "  Oceana  and  Newaygo  Counties  Joint  Grangers  and  Teachers' 
Association, "  the  word  "  Granger  "  being  inserted  because  of  the 
activity  of  the  Grange  in  support  of  the  movement.  Mr.  McClure  has 
pardonable  pride  in  this  effort  of  his,  and  his  own  words  will  best  de- 
scribe the  development  of  the  movement :  — 

"  This  association  meets  Thursday  night  and  continues  in  session  until 
Saturday  night.  Some  of  the  best  speakers  in  America  have  addressed 
the  association.  Dr.  Arnold  Tompkins,  in  speaking  before  the  asso- 
ciation, said  it  was  a  wonderful  association  and  the  only  one  of  its  char- 
acter in  the  United  States. 

"What  was  my  ideal  in  organizing  such  associations? 

"  i.  To  unite  the  farmers  who  pay  the  taxes  that  support  the  schools, 
the  homemakers,  the  teachers,  the  pupils,  into  a  cooperative  work  for 
better  rural  school  education. 

"2.  To  give  wholesome  entertainment  in  the  rural  districts,  which 
from  necessity  are  more  or  less  isolated. 

"3.  To  create  a  taste  for  good  American  literature  in  home  and 
school,  and  higher  ideals  of  citizenship. 

"  4.  Summed  up  in  all,  to  make  the  rural  schools  character  builders,  to 
rid  the  districts  of  surroundings  which  destroy  character,  such  as  unkept 
school  yards,  foul,  nasty  outhouses,  poor  unfit  teachers.  These  reforms, 
you  understand,  come  only  through  a  healthy  educational  sentiment 
which  is  aroused  by  a  sympathetic  cooperation  of  farm,  home,  and  school. 

"  What  results  have  I  been  able  to  discover  growing  out  of  this  work? 
Ideals  grow  so  slowly  that  one  cannot  measure  much  progress  in  a 
few  years.  We  are  slaves  to  conditions,  no  matter  how  hard,  and  we 
suffer  them  to  exist  rather  than  arouse  ourselves  and  shake  them  off. 
The  immediate  results  are  better  schools,  yards,  outbuildings,  school- 
rooms, teachers,  literature  for  rural  people  to  read. 


32  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

"  Many  a  father  and  mother  whose  lives  have  been  broken  upon  the 
wheel  of  labor  have  heard  some  of  America's  orators,  have  read  some 
of  the  world's  best  books,  because  of  this  movement,  and  their  lives 
have  been  made  happier,  more  influential,  more  hopeful. 

"  Thousands  of  people  have  been  inspired,  made  better,  at  the  Hes- 
peria  meetings. " 

In  western  Michigan  the  annual  gathering  at  Hesperia  is  known 
far  and  wide  as  "  the  big  meeting."  The  following  £'xtract  from 
the  Michigan  Moderator-Topics  indicates  in  the  editor's  breezy 
way  the  impression  the  meeting  for  1906  made  upon  an  observer :  — 

"  Hesperia  scores  another  success.  Riding  over  the  fourteen  miles 
from  the  railroad  to  Hesperia  with  Governor  Warner  and  D.  E. 
McClure,  we  tried  to  make  the  latter  believe  that  the  crowd  would  not 
be  forthcoming  on  that  first  night  of  the  fourteenth  annual  *  big  meet- 
ing.' It  was  zero 'weather  and  mighty  breezy.  For  such  a  movement 
to  succeed  two  years  is  creditable,  to  hold  out  for  five  is  wonderful, 
to  last  ten  is  marvelous,  but  to  grow  bigger  and  better  for  fourteen 
years  is  little  short  of  miraculous.  McClure  is  recognized  as  the  father 
of  the  movement,  and  his  faith  didn't  waver  a  hair's  breadth.  And 
sure  enough,  there  was  the  crowd  —  standing  room  only,  to  hear  the 
governor  and  see  the  great  cartoonist,  J.  T.  McCutcheon  of  the  Chicago 
Tribune.  For  three  evenings  and  two  days  the  big  hall  is  crowded 
with  patrons,  pupils  and  teachers  from  the  towns  and  country  round. 
During  the  fourteen  years  that  these  meetings  have  been  held,  the  coun- 
try community  has  heard  some  of  the  world's  greatest  speakers.  The 
plan  has  been  adopted  by  other  counties  in  Michigan  and  other  states 
both  east  and  west.  Its  possibilities  and  its  power  for  good  is  im- 
measurable. Every  one  connected  with  it  may  well  feel  proud  of  the 
success  attending  the  now  famous  '  Hesperia  movement.' " 

In  1897,  Kent  County,  Michigan  (of  which  Grand  Rapids  is  the 
county  seat),  organized  a  Teachers  and  Patrons'  Association  that  is 
worth  a  brief  description,  although  in  more  recent  years  its  work  has 
been  performed  by  other  agencies.  It  nevertheless  serves  as  a  good 
example  of  a  well-organized  association  designed  to  unite  the  school 
and  home  interests  of  rural  communities.  It  was  for  several  years 
signally  successful  in  arousing  interest  in  all  parts  of  the  county.  Be- 
sides, it  made  a  departure  from  the  Oceana-Newaygo  plan  which  must 
be  considered  advantageous  for  most  counties.  The  Hesperia  meet- 
ing is  an  annual  affair,  with  big  crowds  and  abundant  enthusiasm. 
The  Kent  County  association  was  itinerant.  The  membership  in- 
cluded teachers,  school  officers,  farmers  generally  and  even  pupils.  An 
attempt  was  made  to  hold  monthly  meetings  during  the  school  year, 


i 


THE   SOCIAL  RESPONSIBILITY  OF  THE  SCHOOL       33 

but  for  various  reasons  only  five  or  six  meetings  a  year  were  held.  The 
meetings  usually  occurred  in  some  Grange  hall,  the  Grange  furnishing 
entertainment  for  the  guests.  There  were  usually  three  sessions  — 
Friday  evening  and  Saturday  forenoon  and  afternoon.  The  average 
attendance  was  nearly  five  hundred,  about  one  tenth  being  teachers ; 
many  teachers  as  well  as  farmers  went  considerable  distances  to  attend. 

The  Kent  County  association  did  not  collect  any  fees  from  its  mem- 
bers, the  Teachers'  Institute  fund  of  the  county  being  sufficient  to  pro- 
vide for  the  cost  of  lectures  at  the  association  meetings.  Permission 
for  this  use  of  the  fund  was  obtained  from  the  state  superintendent 
of  public  instruction.  Some  counties  have  a  membership  fee ;  at  Hes- 
peria  the  fee  is  fifty  cents,  and  a  membership  ticket  entitles  its  holder 
to  a  reserved  seat  at  all  sessions.  The  Kent  County  association  also 
suggested  a  reading  course  for  its  members. 

The  success  of  the  work  in  Kent  County  was  due  primarily  to  the  fact 
that  the  educators  and  the  farmers  and  their  leaders  are  in  especially 
close  sympathy.  And  right  there  is  the  vital  element  of  success  in 
this  work.  The  initiative  must  be  taken  by  the  educators,  but  the  play 
must  be  thoroughly  democratic,  and  teacher  and  farmer  must  be  equally 
recognized  in  all  particulars.  The  results  of  the  work  in  Kent  County 
were  thus  summarized  by  the  commissioner  of  schools  of  the  county : 

"  To  teachers,  the  series  of  meetings  is  a  series  of  mid-year  institutes. 
Every  argument  in  favor  of  institutes  applies  with  all  its  force  to  these 
associations.  To  farmers  they  afford  a  near-by  lecture  course,  acces- 
sible to  all  members  of  the  family,  and  of  as  high  grade  as  those  main- 
tained in  the  larger  villages.  To  the  schools,  the  value  is  in  the  general 
sentiment  and  interest  awakened.  The  final  vote  on  any  proposed 
school  improvement  is  taken  at  the  annual  school  meeting,  and  the  pre- 
vailing sentiment  in  the  neighborhood  has  everything  to  do  with  this 
vote.  And  not  only  this,  but  the  general  interest  of  patrons  may 
help  and  cheer  both  teacher  and  pupils  throughout  the  year.  On 
the  other  hand,  indifference  and  neglect  may  freeze  the  life  out  of  the 
most  promising  school.  There  is  no  estimating  the  value  to  the  schools 
in  this  respect." 

The  Kent  County  association  had  a  very  simple  constitution.  It  is 
appended  here  for  the  benefit  of  any  who  may  desire  to  begin  this  be- 
neficent work  of  endeavoring  to  draw  more  closely  together  rural  schools 
and  country  homes. 

"Article  I.  —  Name 

"This  association  shall  be  known  as  "The  Kent  County  Teachers 
and  Patrons'  Association." 


34  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

"  Article    II.  —  Membership 

"Any  person  may  become  a  member  of  this  association  by  assenting 
to  this  constitution  and  paying  the  required  membership  fee. 

"  Article    III.  —  Objects 

"The  object  of  this  association  shall  be  the  promotion  of  better  educa- 
tional facilities  in  all  ways  and  the  encouragement  of  social  and  intel- 
lectual culture  among  its  members. 

"Article    IV.—  Meetings 

"At  least  five  meetings  of  the  association  shall  be  held  each  year, 
during  the  months  of  October,  November,  January,  February,  and 
March,  the  dates  and  places  of  meetings  to  be  determined  and  an- 
nounced by  the  executive  committee.  Special  meetings  may  be  called 
at  the  election  of  the  executive  committee. 

"Article    V.  —  Officers 

"Section  i.  The  officers  of  the  association  shall  be  a  president,  a 
vice  president,  a  secretary,  a  treasurer,  and  an  executive  committee 
composed  of  five  members  to  be  appointed  by  the  president. 

"  Sec.  2.  The  election  of  officers  shall  occur  at  the  regular  meeting 
of  the  association  in  the  month  of  October. 

"Sec.  3.  The  duties  of  each  officer  shall  be  such  as  parliamentary 
usage  assigns,  respectively,  according  to  Cushing's  Manual. 

"  Sec.  4.  It  shall  be  the  duty  of  the  executive  committee  to  arrange 
a  schedule  of  meetings  and  to  provide  suitable  lecturers  and  instructors 
for  the  same  on  or  before  the  first  day  of  September  of  each  year.  It 
shall  be  the  further  duty  of  this  committee  to  devise  means  to  defray 
the  expenses  incurred  for  lecturers  and  instructors.  All  meetings 
shall  be  public,  and  no  charge  for  admission  shall  be  made,  except 
by  order  of  the  executive  committee. 

"  Article  VI.  —  Course  of  Reading 

"Section  i.  The  executive  committee  may  also  recommend  a  course 
of  reading  to  be  pursued  by  members,  and  it  shall  be  their  duty  to 
make  such  other  recommendations  from  time  to  time  as  shall  have 
for  their  object  the  more  effective  carrying  out  of  the  purposes  of 
the  association." 

Whether  the  Oceana  County  plan  of  a  set  annual  meeting  or  the  Kent 
County  plan  of  numerous  itinerant  meetings  is  the  better  one  depends 
much  on  the  situation.  It  is  not  improbable  that  itinerant  meetings, 


THE   SOCIAL  RESPONSIBILITY  OF  THE   SCHOOL       35 

with  an  annual  "  round-up  "  meeting  of  the  popular  type  as  the  great 
event  of  the  school  year,  would  be  very  satisfactory. 

Other  counties  in  the  state  have  taken  up  the  Hesperia  idea.  In 
some  cases  associations  similar  to  the  Kent  County  association  have 
been  developed.  More  recently  the  work  has  frequently  been  carried 
on  by  the  county  commissioner  of  schools  directly.  "  Institutes  on 
wheels  "  have  become  a  factor  in  the  campaign  for  better  rural  schools. 
One  commissioner  writes:  — 

"My  aim  has  been  to  bring  into  very  close  relationship  teachers, 
patrons,  and  pupils.  This  is  done,  in  part,  in  the  following  manner :  I 
engage,  for  a  week's  work  at  a  time,  some  educator  of  state  or  national 
reputation  to  ride  with  me  on  my  visitation  of  schools.  Through  the 
day,  schools  are  visited,  pupils'  work  inspected,  and  in  the  evening 
a  rally  is  held  in  the  locality  visited  in  that  day.  A  circuit  is  made 
during  the  week,  and  Friday  evening  and  the  Saturday  following  a 
general  round-up  is  held.  The  results  of  this  work  have  been  far- 
reaching.  Teachers,  patrons  and  pupils  are  brought  into  close  rela- 
tionship and  a  higher  standard  of  education  is  developed." 

The  form  of  organization  matters  little.  The  essential  idea  of  the 
"  Hesperia  movement "  was  to  bring  together  the  teacher  and  the 
school  patron  on  a  common  platform,  to  a  common  meeting  place,  to 
discuss  subjects  of  common  interest.  This  idea  must  be  vitalized  in 
the  rural  community  before  that  progress  in  rural  school  matters  which 
we  desire  shall  become  a  fact. 

It  is  only  fair  to  say  that  administrators  of  rural  school  systems 
in  several  states  are  attempting  in  one  way  or  another,  and  have  done 
so  for  some  years,  to  bring  together  teachers  and  school  patrons.  In 
Iowa  there  are  mothers'  clubs  organized  for  the  express  purpose  of  pro- 
moting the  best  interests  of  the  schools.  In  many  of  the  communities 
the  county  superintendent  organizes  excursions,  and  holds  school  con- 
tests which  are  largely  attended  by  patrons  of  the  schools. 

Ohio  has  what  is  known  as  the  "  Ohio  School  Improvement  Federa- 
tion." Its  objects  are:  (i)  to  create  a  wholesome  educational  senti- 
ment in  the  citizenship  of  the  state;  (2)  to  remove  the  school  from 
partisan  politics;  (3)  to  make  teaching  a  profession,  protected  and 
justly  compensated.  County  associations  of  the  federation  are  being 
organized  and  the  effort  is  being  made  to  reach  the  patrons  of  the 
schools  and  to  create  the  right  public  sentiment.  In  many  of  the 
teachers'  institutes  there  is  one  session  devoted  entirely  to  subjects 
that  are  of  special  interest  to  the  school  board  members  and  to  the 
patrons  of  the  schools.  Educational  rallies  are  held  in  many  of  the 
townships,  at  which  effort  is  made  to  get  together  all  the  citizens  and 
have  an  exhibition  of  school  work. 


w 

t 


36  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

In  Minnesota,  a  law  was  passed  recently  to  the  effect  that  school 
officers  within  a  county  may  attend  one  educational  convention  a  year 
upon  call  of  the  county  superintendent.  They  receive  therefor  three 
dollars  for  one  day's  services  and  five  cents  mileage  each  way  for  at- 
tendance. Already  a  number  of  very  successful  conventions  have  been 
held,  wherein  all  school  districts  in  the  counties  have  been  represented. 

The  county  institutes  in  Pennsylvania  are  largely  attended  by  the 
public  and  are  designed  to  reach  patrons  as  well  as  teachers. 

In  Kansas,  county  superintendents  have  organized  school  patrons' 
associations  and  school  board  associations,  both  of  which  definitely 
purpose  to  bring  together  the  school  and  the  home  and  the  officers  of 
the  school  into  one  body  and  cooperate  with  individuals  for  the  purpose 
of  bettering  the  school  conditions. 

Doubtless  other  states  are  carrying  on  similar  methods. 

An  interesting  movement  wholly  independent  of  the  Hesperia  plan 
has  recently  been  put  into  operation  under  the  leadership  of  Princi- 
pal Myron  T.  Scudder  of  the  State  Normal  School,  New  Paltx,  N.Y, 
He  has  organized  a  series  of  country  school  conferences.  They  gre 
out  of  a  recognized  need,  but  were  an  evolution  rather  than  a  defi- 
nite scheme.  The  school  commissioner,  the  teachers,  and  the  Grange 
people  of  the  community  have  'joined  in  making  up  the  conference. 
An  attempt  is  also  made  to  interest  the  pupils.  At  one  conference  there 
was  organized  an  athletic  league  for  the  benefit  of  the  boys  of  the  county 
school.  The  practical  phases  of  nature  study  and  manual  training  are 
treated  on  the  program,  and  at  least  one  session  is  made  a  parents' 
meeting.  There  is  no  organization  whatever. 

Dr.  A.  E.  Winship,  of  the  Journal  of  Education,  Boston,  had  the 
following  editorial  in  the  issue  of  June  21,  1906 :  — 

"  It  is  now  fourteen  years  since  D.  E.  McClure  brought  into  being 
the  Hesperia  movement,  which  is  a  great  union  of  educational  and 
farmer  forces,  in  a  midwinter  Chautauqua,  as  it  were.  Twelve  miles 
from  the  railroad,  in  the  slight  village  of  Hesperia,  a  one-street  village, 
one  side  of  the  street  being  in  one  county  and  the  other  side  in  another, 
for  three  days  and  evenings  in  midwinter  each  year,  in  a  ramshackle 
building,  eight  hundred  people  from  all  parts  of  the  two  counties  sit 
in  reserved  seats,  for  which  they  pay  a  good  price,  and  listen  to  one  or 
two  notable  speakers  and  a  number  of  local  functionaries.  One  half 
of  the  time  is  devoted  to  education  and  the  other  to  farm  interests. 

"  It  is  a  great  idea,  well  worked  out,  and  after  fourteen  years  it  main- 
tains its  lustiness,  but  I  confess  to  disappointment  that  the  idea  has  not 
spread  more  extensively.  It  is  so  useful  there,  and  the  idea  is  so  sug- 
gestive, that  it  should  have  been  well-nigh  universal,  and  yet  despite 
occasional  bluffs  at  it,  I  know  of  no  serious  effort  to  adopt  it  elsewhere, 


THE   SOCIAL  RESPONSIBILITY  OF  THE   SCHOOL         37 

unless  the  midwinter  meeting  at  Shelby,  in  one  of  these  two  counties, 
can  be  considered  a  spread  of  the  idea.  This  child  of  the  Hesperia 
movement,  in  one  of  the  two  counties,  and  only  twenty  miles  away, 
had  this  year  many  more  in  attendance  than  have  ever  been  at  Hes- 
peria. 

"  This  work  of  uniting  more  closely  the  interests,  sympathies,  and  in- 
telligence of  the  teachers  and  patrons  of  the  rural  school  has  had  a  test 
in  Michigan  of  sufficient  length  to  prove  that  it  is  a  practicable  scheme. 
No  one  questions  the  desirability  of  the  ends  it  is  prepared  to  compass, 
and  experience  in  Michigan  shows  not  only  that  where  the  educators 
have  sufficient  enterprise,  tact,  enthusiasm,  and  persistence  the  neces- 
sary organizations  can  be  perfected,  but  that  substantial  results  follow. 
For  the  sake  of  the  better  rural  schools,  then,  it  is  sincerely  to  be  hoped 
that  the  '  Hesperia  movement '  may  find  expression  in  numerous 
teachers  and  patrons'  associations  in  at  least  the  great  agricultural 
states." 

K.  L.  Butterfield,  Chapters  in  Rural  Progress,  courtesy  of  University  of  Chicago  Press. 

The  Rural  School  and  the  Community 

Among  the  great  phenomena  of  our  time  is  the  growth  of  the  school 
idea  —  the  realization  of  the  part  that  the  school  plays  in  our  civili- 
zation and  in  the  training  of  our  youth  for  life.  Our  New  England 
fathers  started  the  school  in  order  that  their  children  might  learn  to 
read  the  Scriptures,  and  thus  that  they  might  get  right  ideas  of  their 
religious  duty.  Even  after  this  aim  was  outgrown,  our  schools  for  gen- 
erations did  little  more  than  to  teach  the  use  of  the  mere  tools  of  knowl- 
edge ;  to  read,  to  write  and  to  cipher  were  the  great  aims  of  the  school- 
room. Even  geography  and  grammar  were  rather  late  arrivals.  Then 
came  the  idea  that  the  school  should  train  children  for  citizenship, 
and  it  was  argued  that  the  chief  reason  why  schools  be  supported  at 
public  expense  was  in  order  that  good  citizens  should  be  trained  there. 
History  and  civil  government  were  put  into  the  course  in  obedience 
to  this  theory.  Another  step  was  taken  when  physiology  was  added, 
because  it  was  an  acknowledgment  that  the  schools  should  do  some- 
thing to  train  youth  in  the  individual  art  of  living.  Still  another  step 
was  taken  when  manual  training  and  domestic  science  were  brought 
into  our  city  schools,  because  these  studies  emphasize  the  fact  that 
the  schools  must  do  something  to  train  workers.  And  finally  we  have 
at  present  the  idea  gaining  a  strong  foothold  that  the  schools  must 
train  the  child  to  fill  its  place  in  the  world  of  men ;  to  see  all  the  rela- 
tions of  life;  to  be  fitted  to  live  in  human  society.  This  idea  really 
embraces  all  of  the  other  ideas.  It  implies  that  the  schools  shall  not 
only  teach  each  individual  the  elements  of  knowledge,  that  they  shall 
train  for  citizenship,  that  they  shall  train  men  in  the  art  of  living, 


38  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

that  they  shall  aid  in  preparing  for  an  occupation,  but  that  they  shall 
do  all  of  these  things,  and  do  them  not  merely  for  the  good  of  the 
individual,  but  for  the  good  of  society  as  a  whole. 

And  not  only  is  there  a  feeling  that  the  pupil  in  school  can  be  brought 
into  closer  touch  with  the  life  of  the  community,  but  that  the  school 
as  an  institution  can  be  made  more  useful  to  the  community  as  a  whole. 
This  double  thought  has  been  expressed  in  the  phrase,  "  Make  the  school 
a  social  center,"  and  practically  it  is  being  slowly  worked  out  in  nu- 
merous city  schools.  How  far  can  this  idea  be  developed  in  the  country 
schools  ? 

The  purpose  of  this  chapter  is  not  to  deal  in  the  theory  of  the  subject 
nor  to  argue  particularly  for  this  view  of  the  function  of  the  school, 
but  rather  to  try  to  show  some  methods  by  which  the  rural  school  and 
the  farm  community  actually  can  be  brought  into  closer  relations. 
In  this  way  we  may  perhaps  indicate  that  there  is  a  better  chance  for 
cooperation  between  the  rural  school  and  the  farm  community  than 
we  have  been  accustomed  to  believe,  and  that  this  closer  relation  is 
worth  striving  for.  Five  methods  will  be  suggested  by  which  the 
rural  school  can  become  a  social  center.  Some  of  these  have  already 
been  tried  in  rural  communities,  some  of  them  have  been  tried  in  cities, 
and  some  of  them  have  not  been  tried  at  all. 

i.  The  first  means  of  making  the  rural  school  a  social  center  is  through 
the  course  of  study.  It  is  here  that  the  introduction  of  nature  study 
into  our  rural  schools  would  be  especially  helpful.  This  nature  study, 
when  properly  followed,  approves  itself  both  to  educators  and  to 
farmers.  It  is  a  pedagogical  principle  recognized  by  every  modern 
teacher  that  in  education  it  is  necessary  to  consider  the  environment  of 
the  child,  so  that  the  school  may  not  be  to  him  "a  thing  remote  and 
foreign."  The  value  of  nature  study  is  recognized  not  only  in  thus 
making  possible  an  intelligent  study  of  the  country  child's  environ- 
ment, but  in  teaching  a  love  of  nature,  in  giving  habits  of  correct  ob- 
servation, and  in  preparing  for  the  more  fruitful  study  of  science  in 
later  years.  Our  best  farmers  are  also  coming  to  see  that  nature 
study  in  the  rural  schools  is  a  necessity,  because  it  will  tend  to  give 
a  knowledge  of  the  laws  that  govern  agriculture,  because  it  will  teach 
the  children  to  love  the  country,  because  it  will  show  the  possibilities 
of  living  an  intellectual  life  upon  the  farm.  Nature  study,  therefore, 
will  have  a  very  direct  influence  in  bringing  the  child  into  close  touch 
with  the  whole  life  of  the  farm  community. 

But  it  is  not  so  much  a  matter  of  introducing  new  studies  —  the  old 
studies  can  be  taught  in  such  a  way  as  to  make  them  seem  vital  and 
human.  Take,  for  instance,  geography.  It  used  to  be  approached 
from  the  standpoint  of  the  solar  system.  It  now  begins  with  the 
schoolhouse  and  the  pupils'  homes,  and  works  outward  from  the  things 


! 


THE  SOCIAL  RESPONSIBILITY  OF  THE  SCHOOL         39 

that  the  child  sees  and  knows  to  the  things  that  it  must  imagine.  His- 
tory, writing,  reading,  the  sciences,  and  even  other  subjects  can  be 
taught  so  as  to  connect  them  vitally  and  definitely  with  the  life  of  the 
farm  community.  To  quote  Colonel  Parker,  who  suggests  the  valu- 
able results  of  such  a  method  of  teaching :  — 

"It  would  make  a  strong,  binding  union  of  the  home  and  the 
school,  the  farm  methods  and  the  school  methods.  It  would  bring 
the  farm  into  the  school  and  project  the  school  in  to  ^  the  farm.  It 
would  give  parent  and  teacher  one  motive,  in  the  carrying  out  of 
which  both  could  heartily  join.  The  parent  would  appreciate  and 
judge  fairly  the  work  of  the  school,  the  teacher  would  honor,  dignify 
and  elevate  the  work  of  the  farfc." 

The  study  of  the  landscape  of  the  near-by  country,  the  study  of  the 
streams,  the  study  of  the  soils,  studies  that  have  to  do  with  the  location 
of  homes,  of  villages,  the  study  of  the  weather,  of  the  common  plants, 
of  domestic  animals — all  of  these  things  will  give  the  child  a  better 
start  in  education,  a  better  comprehension  of  the  life  he  is  to  live,  a 
better  idea  of  the  business  of  farming,  a  better  notion  about  the  im- 
portance of  agriculture,  and  will  tend  to  fit  him  better  for  future  life 
either  on  the  farm  or  anywhere  else,  than  could  any  amount  of  the  old- 
fashioned  book  knowledge.  Is  it  not  a  strange  fact  that  so  many  farmers 
will  decry  book  knowledge  when  applied  to  the  business  of  farming, 
and  at  the  same  time  set  so  much  store  by  the  book  learning  that  is 
given  in  the  common  arithmetic,  the  old-fashioned  reader,  and  the 
dry  grammar  of  the  typical  school?  Of  course  any  one  pleading  for 
this  sort  of  study  in  the  rural  schools  must  make  it  clear  that  the  or- 
dinary accomplishments  of  reading,  writing  and  ciphering  are  not 
to  be  neglected.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  pupils  under  this  method  can  be 
just  as  well  trained  in  these  branches  as  under  the  old  plan.  The  point 
to  be  emphasized,  however,  is  that  a  course  of  study  constructed  on 
this  theory  will  tend  to  bring  the  school  and  the  community  closer 
together,  will  make  the  school  of  more  use  to  the  community,  will 
give  the  community  more  interest  in  the  school,  while  at  the  same 
time  it  will  better  prepare  pupils  to  do  their  work  in  life. 

2.  A  second  way  of  making  the  rural  school  a  social  center  is  through 
the  social  activities  of  the  pupils.  This  means  that  the  pupils  as  a 
body  can  cooperate  for  certain  purposes,  and  that  this  cooperation 
will  not  only  secure  some  good  results  of  an  immediate  character, 
results  that  can  be  seen  and  appreciated  by  every  one,  but  that  it  will 
teach  the  spirit  of  cooperation  —  and  there  is  hardly  anything  more 
needed  to-day  in  rural  life  than  this  spirit  of  cooperation.  The  schools 
can  perform  no  better  service  than  in  training  young  people  to  work 
together  for  common  ends.  In  this  work  such  things  as  special  day 
programs,  as  for  Arbor  Day,  Washington's  Birthday,  Pioneer  Day; 


40  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

the  holding  of  various  school  exhibitions ;  the  preparation  of  exhibits 
for  county  fairs,  and  similar  endeavors,  are  useful  and  are  being  carried 
out  in  many  of  our  rural  schools.  But  the  best  example  of  this  work 
is  a  plan  that  is  being  used  in  the  state  of  Maine,  and  is  performed 
through  the  agency  of  what  is  called  a  School  Improvement  League. 
The  purposes  of  the  league  are:  (i)  to  improve  school  grounds  and 
buildings ;  (2)  to  furnish  suitable  reading  matter  for  pupils  and  people ; 
(3)  to  provide  works  of  art  for  schoolrooms.  There  are  three  forms 
of  the  league:  the  local  leagues  organized  in  each  school;  the  town 
leagues,  whose  membership  consists  of  the  officers  of  the  local  leagues ; 
and  a  state  league,  whose  members  are  delegates  from  the  town  leagues 
and  members  of  the  local  leagues,  \^o  hold  school  diplomas.  Any 
pupil,  teacher,  school  officer,  or  any  other  citizen  may  join  the  league 
on  payment  of  the  dues.  The  minimum  dues  are  one  cent  a  month 
for  each  pupil,  for  other  members  not  less  than  ten  cents  a  term.  But 
these  dues  may  be  made  larger  by  vote  of  the  league.  Each  town 
league  sends  a  delegate  to  the  meeting  of  the  state  league.  Each 
league  has  the  usual  number  of  officers  elected  for  one  term.  These 
leagues  were  first  organized  in  1898  and  they  have  already  accomplished 
much.  They  have  induced  school  committees  to  name  various  schools 
for  distinguished  American  citizens,  as  Washington,  Lincoln,  and  so 
forth.  They  give  exhibitions  and  entertainments  for  the  purpose  of 
raising  funds.  Sometimes  they  use  these  funds  to  buy  books  for  the 
schoolroom.  The  books  are  then  loaned  to  the  members  of  the  league; 
at  the  end  of  the  term  this  set  of  books  is  exchanged  for  another  set  of 
books  from  another  school  in  the  same  township.  In  this  way  at 
slight  expense  each  school  may  have  the  use  of  a  large  number  of  books 
every  year.  The  same  thing  is  done  with  pictures  and  works  of  art, 
these  being  purchased  and  exchanged  in  the  same  way.  Through  the 
efforts  of  the  league  schoolhouses  have  been  improved  inside  and  out 
and  the  school  grounds  improved.  It  is  not  so  much  the  ~doing  of 
new  things  that  has  been  attempted  by  this  league.  The  important 
item  is  that  the  school  has  been  organized  for  these  definite  purposes, 
and  the  work  is  carried  on  systematically  from  year  to  year.  It  needs 
no  argument  to  show  the  value  of  this  sort  of  cooperation  to  the 
pupil,  to  the  teacher,  to  the  school,  to  the  parents,  and  ultimately 
to  the  community  as  a  whole. 

3.  A  third  method  is  through  cooperation  between  the  home 
and  the  school,  between  the  teacher  and  pupils  on  one  side,  and 
parents  and  taxpayers  on  the  other  side.  Parents  sometimes  com- 
plain that  the  average  school  is  a  sort  of  a  mill,  or  machine,  into 
which  their  children  are  placed  and  turned  out  just  so  fast,  and  in 
just  such  condition.  But  if  this  is  the  case,  it  is  partly  the  fault  of 
the  parents  who  do  not  keep  in  close  enough  touch  with  the  work  of 


THE  SOCIAL  RESPONSIBILITY  OF  THE  SCHOOL        41 

the  school.  It  is  not  that  parents  are  not  interested  in  their  children, 
but  it  is  rather  that  they  look  at  the  school  as  something  separate 
from  the  ordinary  affairs  of  life.  Now,  nothing  can  be  more  neces- 
sary than  that  this  notion  should  be  done  away  with.  There  must 
be  the  closest  cooperation  between  the  home  and  school.  How  can 
this  cooperation  be  brought  about?  Frequently  parents  are  urged 
to  visit  the  schools.  This  is  all  right  and  proper,  but  it  is  not  enough. 
There  must  be  a  closer  relation  than  this.  The  teacher  must  know 
more  about  the  home  life  of  her  pupils,  and  the  parents  must  know 
far  more  about  the  whole  purpose  and  spirit,  as  well  as  the  method, 
of  the  school.  A  great  deal  of  good  has  been  done  by  the  joint 
meeting  of  teachers  and  school  officers.  It  is  a  very  wise  device, 
and  should  be  kept  up.  But  altogether  the  most  promising  de- 
velopment along  this  line  is  the  so-called  "  Hesperia  movement," 
described  in  another  chapter.  These  meetings  of  school  patrons 
and  teachers  take  up  the  work  of  the  school  in  a  way  that  will 
interest  both  teachers  and  farmers.  They  bring  the  teachers  and 
farmers  into  closer  touch  socially  and  intellectually.  They  disperse 
fogs  of  misunderstanding.  They  inspire  to  closer  cooperation.  They 
create  mutual  sympathy.  They  are  sure  to  result  in  bringing  the 
teacher  into  closer  touch  with  community  life  and  with  the  social  prob- 
lems of  the  farm.  And  they  are  almost  equally  sure  to  arouse  the  in- 
terest of  the  entire  community,  not  only  in  the  school  as  an  institution 
and  in  the  possibilities  of  the  work  it  may  do,  but  also  in  the  work  of 
that  teacher  who  is  for  the  time  being  serving  a  particular  rural  school. 
4.  A  fourth  method  is  by  making  the  schoolhouse  a  meeting  place 
for  the  community,  more  especially  for  the  intellectual  and  aesthetic 
activities  of  the  community.  A  good  example  of  this  kind  of  work 
is  the  John  Spry  School  of  Chicago.  In  connection  with  this  school 
there  is  a  lecture  course  each  winter;  there  is  a  musical  society  that 
meets  every  Tuesday  evening ;  there  is  a  men's  club  that  meets  every 
two  weeks  to  discuss  municipal  problems  and  the  improvement  of  home 
conditions;  there  is  a  mothers'  council  meeting  every  two  weeks; 
there  is  a  literary  and  dramatic  society,  meeting  every  week,  com- 
posed of  members  of  high  school  age,  and  studying  Shakespeare 
particularly;  there  is  a  dressmaking  and  aid  society  meeting  two 
evenings  a  week,  to  study  the  cutting  of  patterns,  garment  making, 
etc. ;  a  food  study  and  cooking  club  also  meeting  two  evenings  a 
week;  an  inventive  and  mechanical  club,  meeting  two  evenings  a 
week  and  tending  to  develop  the  inventive  and  mechanical  genius 
of  a  group  of  young  men ;  an  art  club  ;  and  a  boys'  club,  with  music, 
games,  reading  lessons,  reading  of  books  and  magazines,  intended 
for  boys  of  fourteen  or  fifteen  years  of  age.  These  things  are  all  .under 
the  direction  of  the  school,  they  are  free,  they  are  designed  to  educate. 


42  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

It  will  not  be  feasible  for  the  rural  school  to  carry  out  such  a  pro- 
gram as  this,  but  do  we  realize  how  large  are  the  possibilities  of 
this  idea  of  making  the  rural  school  a  community  center?  No  doubt 
one  of  the  advantages  of  the  centralized  rural  school  will  be  to  give 
a  central  meeting  place  for  the  township,  and  to  encourage  work  of 
the  character  that  has  been  described.  Of  course,  the  Grange  and 
farmers'  clubs  are  doing  much  along  these  lines,  but  is  it  not  possible 
for  the  district  school  also  to  do  some  useful  work  of  this  character  ? 
Singing  schools  and  debating  clubs  were  quite  a  common  thing  in 
the  rural  schools  forty  years  ago,  and  there  are  many  rural  schools 
to-day  that  are  doing  work  of  this  very  kind.  Is  there  any  reason, 
for  example,  why  the  country  schoolhouse  should  not  offer  an  evening 
school  during  a  portion  of  the  winter,  where  the  older  pupils  who  have 
left  the  regular  work  of  the  school  can  carry  on  studies  especially  in 
agriculture  and  domestic  science  ?  There  is  need  for  this  sort  of  thing, 
and  if  our  agricultural  colleges  and  the  departments  of  public  instruc- 
tion, and  the  local  school  supervisors,  and  the  country  teachers,  and 
the  farmers  themselves  could  come  a  little  closer  together  on  these 
questions,  the  thing  could  be  done ! 

5.  Fifth  and  last,  as  a  method  for  making  the  school  a  social  center, 
is  the  suggestion  that  the  teacher  herself  shall  become  something  of 
a  leader  in  the  farm  community.  The  teacher  ought  to  be  not  only 
a  teacher  of  the  pupils,  but  in  some  sense  a  teacher  of  the  community. 
Is  there  not  need  that  some  one  should  take  the  lead  in  inspiring 
every  one  in  the  community  to  read  better  books,  to  buy  better  pic- 
tures, to  take  more  interest  in  the  things  that  make  for  culture  and 
progress?  There  are  special  difficulties  in  a  country  community. 
The  rural  teacher  is  usually  a  transient ;  she  secures  a  city  school  as 
soon  as  she  can ;  she  is  often  poorly  paid ;  she  is  sometimes  inexperi- 
enced ;  frequently  the  labor  of  the  school  absorbs  all  her  time  and 
energy.  Unfortunately  these  things  are,  but  they  ought  not  to  be  so. 
And  we  shall  never  have  the  ideal  rural  school  until  we  have  conditions 
favorable  to  the  kind  of  work  just  described.  The  country  teacher 
ought  to  understand  the  country  community,  ought  to  have  some 
knowledge  of  the  problems  that  the  farmers  have  to  face,  ought  to 
have  some  appreciation  of  the  peculiar  conditions  of  farm  life.  Every 
teacher  should  have  some  knowledge  of  rural  sociology.  The  normal 
school  should  make  this  subject  a  required  subject  in  the  course, 
especially  for  country  teachers.  Teachers'  institutes  and  reading 
circles  should  in  some  way  provide  this  sort  of  thing.  This  is  one  of 
the  most  important  means  of  bringing  the  rural  school  into  closer 
touch  with  the  farm  community.  Ten  years  ago  Henry  Sabin  of 
Iowa,  one  of  the  keenest  students  of  the  rural  school  problem,  in  speak- 
ing of  the  supervision  of  country  schools,  said:  — 


in  of 


THE  SOCIAL  RESPONSIBILITY  OF  THE  SCHOOL         43 

"  The  supervisor  of  rural  schools  should  be  acquainted  with  the  ma- 
terial resources  of  his  district.  He  should  know  not  only  what  con- 
stitutes good  farming,  but  the  prevailing  industry  of  the  region  should 
be  so  familiar  to  him  that  he  can  converse  intelligently  with  the  in- 
habitants, and  convince  them  that  he  knows  something  besides  books. 
The  object  is  not  alone  to  gain  influence  over  them,  but  to  bring  the 
school  into  closer  touch  with  the  home  life  of  the  community  about. 
It  is  not  to  invite  the  farmer  to  the  school,  but  to  take  the  school  to 
the  farm,  and  to  show  the  pupils  that  here  before  their  eyes  are  the 
foundations  upon  which  have  been  built  the  great  natural  sciences." 

The  program  needed  to  unify  rural  school  and  farm  community 
is,  then,  first  to  enrich  the  course  of  study  by  adding  nature  study 
and  agriculture,  and  about  these  coordinating  the  conventional 
school  subjects ;  second,  to  encourage  the  cooperation  of  the  pupils, 
especially  for  the  improvement  of  the  school  and  its  surroundings ; 
third,  to  bring  together  for  discussion  and  acquaintance  the  teachers  and 
the  patrons  of  the  school ;  fourth,  so  far  as  possible  to  make  the  school- 
house  a  meeting  place  for  the  community,  for  young  people  as  well 
as  for  older  people,  where  music,  art,  social  culture,  literature,  study 
of  farming,  and,  in  fact,  anything  that  has  to  do  with  rural  education, 
may  be  fostered ;  and  fifth,  to  expect  the  teacher  to  have  a  knowledge 
of  the  industrial  and  general  social  conditions  of  agriculture,  especially 
those  of  the  community  in  which  her  lot  is  cast. 

K.  L.  Butterfield.    Reprinted  by  courtesy  of  the  University  of  Chicago  Press  from 
Chapters  in  Rural  Progress. 


Community  Work  in  the  Agricultural  High  School 

The  methods  of  community  work  fitting  specific  places  must  be 
judged  by  individual  conditions.  A  typical  procedure  is  that  of  the 
Agricultural  High  School  of  Baltimore  County,  Maryland.  This 
school  has  been  in  operation  during  but  two  school  years,  yet  it  has 
already  carried  out  at  least  one  type  of  work  with  each  class  of  people 
in  its  neighborhood:  farmers,  farmers'  wives,  young  people,  rural- 
school  teachers,  and  children.  As  a  result,  the  people  are  frankly 
and  heartily  interested  in  the  school  and  already  regard  it  as  one  of 
their  best  possessions. 

The  school  is  a  small  high  school  maintained  by  county  school 
funds.  It  is  thus  an  integral  part  of  the  school  system  of  the  county. 
It  is  located  out  in  the  open  country,  not  adjacent  to  any  town  or 
village,  but  near  a  station  of  the  railroad  by  which  many  of  the  high 
school  students  come  daily.  Four  elementary  schools  totaling  ninety 
pupils  were  consolidated  in  two  classes  which  meet  in  the  high  school 


44  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

building.  The  high  school  department  had  in  the  first  year  fifty 
students.  School  wagons  and  private  conveyances  bring  many  whose 
homes  are  not  adjacent  to  the  railroad.  The  school  has  seven  acres 
of  ground  and  a  good  granite  building  which  has  five  classrooms, 
the  two  largest  of  which  can  be  converted  into  a  hall  for  meetings, 
seating  three  hundred.  There  are  a  manual  training  room,  a  domes- 
tic science  room,  an  agricultural  laboratory,  a  farm  machinery  room, 
and  toilet  rooms  in  the  basement.  The  school  has  its  own  heating, 
lighting  and  water  supply  system.  It  teaches  all  the  usual  high  school 
subjects  except  foreign  languages,  in  place  of  which  it  offers  agricul- 
ture, domestic  science  and  manual  training.  In  short,  the  school 
resembles  others  over  the  country  in  its  equipment 'and  courses. 

When  the  school  started,  it  was  decided  as  a  definite  part  of  its  policy 
that  for  the  fulfillment  of  its  possibilities,  educational  facilities  must 
be  offered  for  every  class  of  persons  in  the  community :  men,  women 
and  children.  Before  the  school  building  was  completed,  a  mailing 
list  of  persons  in  the  county  was  made.  The  principal  was  new  in  the 
community ;  he  knew  no  one.  This  list  was  to  be  his  method  of  reach- 
ing all  the  folks.  The  list  was  compiled  from  subscription  lists  of 
county  papers,  poll  lists  of  voters,  memberships  of  farmers'  clubs  and 
granges,  account  books  of  physicians  and  lawyers,  and  other  sources. 
When  the  list  was  made  up  into  a  cross-reference  card  index,  a  very 
valuable  fund  of  information  was  obtainable  about  almost  any  one  of 
interest  in  the  county.  It  was  not  only  possible  thus  to  have  a  list 
of  all  persons  living  on  farms  or  interested  in  agriculture,  but  also  to 
tell  at  a  glance  whether  they  were  persons  of  prominence  or  not,  and 
even  what  their  politics  were  supposed  to  be.  Subsequent  information 
is  added  to  these  cards,  such  as  whether  they  answered  a  letter  of  in- 
quiry sent  out  by  the  school,  whether  they  attended  certain  activi- 
ties of  the  school,  and  so  forth.  Ultimately  this  list  should  be  of  enor- 
mous value,  as  it  will  show  those  persons  who  can  or  cannot  be  expected 
to  respond.  Even  at  present  it  is  possible  to  condense  the  list  con- 
siderably by  discarding  for  some  purposes  those  whose  interest  is  ap- 
parently in  another  direction. 

The  first  event  was  to  be  the  dedication  of  the  new  building,  the 
details  of  which  were  turned  over  to  two  farm  clubs  —  one  of  men, 
the  other  of  women.  The  men's  club  is  known  as  the  Junior  Gun- 
powder Agricultural  Club,  the  women's  as  the  Women's  Home  In- 
terest Club.  Both  are  composed  of  some  of  the  most  intelligent  and 
progressive  persons  in  the  community.  The  clubs  have  been  of  great 
benefit  to  the  neighborhood,  even  though  they  are  small  and  somewhat 
exclusive  organizations.  Through  all  the  community  work  of  the  school 
the  men  and  women  of  these  clubs  have  been  so  actively  participant  as 
to  be  of  great  assistance.  If  there  were  no  farm  clubs  in  the  neighbor- 


THE  SOCIAL  RESPONSIBILITY  OF  THE  SCHOOL        45 

hood,  the  school  would  organize  them,  because  they  are  capable  of  so 
great  assistance. 

Three  thousand  personal  invitations,  the  names  obtained  from  the 
card  index,  were  sent  out  from  the  school  for  the  dedication  exercises. 
The  best  possible  speakers  were  obtained.  Of  course  the  building  was 
not  nearly  large  enough  to  hold  the  folks,  so  that  the  exercises  were 
held  out  doors,  as  many  of  the  crowd  as  possible  being  seated  on  rough 
board  benches.  The  women's  club  served  a  luncheon  before  the 
exercises  to  a  large  number  of  specially  invited  guests.  Because  the 
school  owned  no  chairs,  every  one  stood  during  the  meal. 

At  about  the  same  time  posters  telling  of  what  the  school  had  to 
offer  appeared  all  over  the  county.  They  were  nailed  up  on  trees  at 
crossroads,  and  on  post  offices,  blacksmith  shops,  schoolhouses,  and 
even  churches.  The  school  believes  in  local  advertising.  When- 
ever a  new  organization  or  series  of  meetings  is  attempted,  the  local 
and  city  papers  are  given  full  information ;  consequently,  the  school 
has  much  free  publicity,  all  of  which  has  aided  its  work. 

The  community  work  started  almost  as  soon  as  the  regular  classes. 
The  firsf  organization  formed  was  a  series  of  monthly  meetings  for 
rural  school  teachers.  It  seemed  desirable  to  introduce  elementary 
agriculture  into  the  rural  one-teacher  schools,  but  difficulty  had 
been  experienced  because  of  the  feeling  of  incompetence  on  the  part  of 
the  teacher.  To  overcome  this,  in  part  at  least,  the  rural  teachers 
were  invited  to  the  agricultural  high  school  for  an  all-day  session  on 
one  Saturday  each  month.  The  morning  was  spent  on  lessons  in 
general  school  methods  and  administration  given  by  experts  furnished 
by  the  county  school  authorities.  Each  teacher  brought  a  basket 
lunch  and  all  ate  together  in  the  domestic  science  kitchen.  The 
school  served  hot  coffee  or  tea,  some  of  the  high  school  girls  attired  in 
their  cooking  uniforms  acting  as  the  waitresses.  The  afternoon  was 
devoted  to  agriculture.  The  teachers  were  given  one  general  lesson 
expounded  from  a  textbook  and  then  went  to  the  agricultural  labo- 
ratory where  an  exercise  was  carried  through  by  each  teacher.  Care 
was  taken  to  have  these  exercises  such  that  they  could  be  repeated  in 
the  rural  schools  without  expensive  apparatus.  The  object  was  not 
only  to  familiarize  the  teachers  with  methods  and  subject  matter, 
but  also  to  make  them  realize  that  real  agricultural  lessons  were 
possible  in  their  schools  under  their  conditions.  At  the  same  time 
lessons  in  elementary  agriculture,  written  by  the  principal  with  a 
view  to  local  conditions,  were  printed  in  the  monthly  issues  of  a  local 
educational  publication  which  is  sent  free  by  the  school  authorities 
to  every  teacher  in  the  county.  By  means  of  these  lessons  and  the 
meetings  at  the  school  it  was  hoped  that  agriculture  could  gradually 
be  introduced.  The  meetings  were  not  successful.  Transportation 


46  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

facilities  were  bad  for  those  teachers  coming  from  a  distance.  One 
teacher  wrote  that  she  could  not  get  a  horse  to  drive,  and  although  she 
would  gladly  walk  the  ten  miles  each  way  necessary  to  reach  the  rail- 
road, she  could  hardly  do  so  and  catch  the  six  o'clock  train  for  the 
school.  Others  did  from  their  slender  salaries  hire  teams  and  a 
driver  and  then  came  twenty  miles  across  country  to  attend  the 
meetings.  These  could  hardly  be  expected  to  keep  that  up  indefi- 
nitely. Then,  too,  the  weather  combined  to  make  conditions  as  bad 
as  possible.  One  teacher  came  thirty  miles  to  attend  a  meeting  when 
the  air  was  blinding  with  snowflakes  and  the  drifts  were  kneedeep. 
She  ought  not  to  have  come.  Ultimately  the  principal  felt  sorrier 
for  those  rural  teachers  than  he  did  for  the  lack  of  agriculture  in  the 
schools,  so  ceased  holding  meetings  in  the  winter  months.  Another 
plan  will  be  devised  next  year. 

A  course  of  ten  evening  lectures  for  farmers  was  projected  during 
the  winter  months.  The  school  could  not  give  a  short  course  of  any 
description  during  school  hours  because  there  were  not  teachers  enough. 

It  is  not  possible  personally  to  teach  in  two  places  at  once.  The 
solution  appeared  to  be  a  course  of  evening  lectures,  although  there 
did  not  seem  to  be  any  definite  demand  for  such,  a  series.  Persons 
being  asked  if  a  course  would  succeed  said  they  did  not  know,  or  else 
that  "  maybe  they  would  attend  once  or  twice. "  It  was  derided  to 
make  the  attempt,  although  the  principal,  who  was  to  be  the  lecturer, 
was  seriously  advised  to  limit  the  projected  course  to  five  instead  of 
ten  lectures,  because  a  failure  would  then  be  less  disastrously  apparent. 

It  was  decided  to  lecture  on  "  Soils  and  Fertilizers  " ;  not  that  the 
principal  knew  more  of  that  than  other  branches,  but  because  the 
people  seemed  to  know  less  and  wanted  the  information.  A  new  issue 
of  posters  was  printed  setting  forth  the  time,  date  and  place  and  sub- 
ject of  the  lectures,  and  these  were  placarded  all  over  the  county. 
The  lectures  were  to  be  illustrated  by  experiments  continued  through- 
out almost  all  the  course.  Although  alphabetically  simple  to  the 
chemist,  physicist  and  soil  technologist,  the  experiments  vitally  in- 
terested the  people.  Those  lamp  chimneys  and  Bunsen  flames 
hypnotically  held  the  folks  while  the  talk  went  on.  Outlines  for  each 
lecture  were  made  by  mimeograph  and  distributed  to  each  person. 
The  audience  was  requested  always  to  bring  the  previous  outlines 
to  the  lectures  for  reference.  The  evenings  were  understood  to  be 
serious  affairs,  designed  for  those  who  wanted  to  know  and  not  as  an 
entertainment  for  the  curious.  As  projected  they  were  for  men,  but 
the  women  asked  to  be  allowed  to  attend,  and  many  did  so  through- 
out the  course.  The  first  lecture  was  attended  by  sixty  persons,  the 
second  by  ninety,  the  third  by  one  hundred,  and  so  on.  For  the  entire 
course,  good  or  bad  weather  included,  the  attendance  averaged  one 


THE  SOCIAL  RESPONSIBILITY  OF  THE   SCHOOL         47 

hundred  and  twenty-five  persons  for  each  lecture,  and  this  in  an  open 
farming  country  where  practically  every  one  had  to  drive  through  the 
dark  over  ice,  snow  and  slush.  There  was  no  doubt  about  the  suc- 
cess of  the  undertaking.  At  a  spring  meeting  of  a  farmers'  club  a 
question  was  asked  about  the  advisability  of  a  certain  soil  treatment. 
At  once  came  the  answer  from  another  farmer,  "  If  you  had  attended 
the  lectures  last  winter  at  the  agricultural  high  school,  you  would  not 
have  to  ask  that;  you  would  know." 

During  the  second  year  the  winter  lecture  course  was  on  "  Dairying  " 
and  was  given  with  at  least  equal  success. 

After  the  close  of  the  course  of  lectures,  a  Corn  Congress  was  planned, 
corn  being  one  of  the  chief  crops  of  the  county.  Nothing  of  the  kind 
had  ever  been  held  in  the  state  before,  but  therein  lay  its  charm.  The 
affair  was  to  last  two  days,  with  morning,  afternoon  and  evening  ses- 
sions of  addresses  each  day.  Speakers  were  secured  from  the  National 
Department  of  Agriculture  and  from  the  Maryland  State  College  and 
Experiment  Station.  Twelve  speakers,  some  of  the  best  in  the 
country,  held  forth  at  the  series  of  six  sessions.  All  the  addresses  were 
directly  on  corn  growing  and  cooking,  for  the  women,  too,  had  addresses 
and  demonstrations.  Posters,  again,  were  issued,  always  printed  in 
red  on  white  paper,  —  the  school  colors,  —  and  all  persons,  clubs, 
granges  and  schools  were  invited  to  enter  an  exhibit  of  ten  ears  of 
corn  in  the  show.  It  was  pointed  out  again  to  the  principal  that  there 
were  only  enough  persons  in  the  neighborhood  to  make  one  good- 
sized  audience,  and  that  while  they  might  attend  a  single  session 
they  would  not  come  to  more.  The  result  would  thus  be  that  either 
all  would  attend  the  best  advertised  address  and  leave  the  others  to 
be  given  to  empty  seats,  or  else  that  there  would  be  only  a  few  people 
at  all  sessions.  The  outcome  was  different,  for  all  sessions  were  well 
attended.  People  came  and  stayed  throughout  the  two  days,  only 
going  home  to  sleep.  In  all,  over  one  hundred  and  eighty  exhibitors 
sent  in  ten  or  more  ears  of  corn,  and  almost  one  thousand  persons 
attended  the  sessions.  Twenty  rural  schools  held  small  preliminary 
shows  of  their  own  and  sent  the  best  exhibits  to  the  Corn  Congress. 
Simultaneous  meetings  in  different  parts  of  the  same  building  were  held 
for  men,  women  and  children.  Although  seats  were  at  a  premium, 
it  only  added  to  the  interest.  Meals  were  served  at  a  lunch  counter 
by  the  ladies  of  the  women's  club,  who  again  came  to  the  aid  of  the 
school,  giving  the  proceeds  to  the  school  treasury.  For  the  corn 
show,  only  ribbon  prizes  were  bestowed,  although  the  city  stores 
would  have  been  willing  to  contribute  cook  stoves,  carpet  sweepers, 
washing  machines,  and  like  articles  for  prizes ;  yet,  because  the  school 
believes  in  amateur  rather  than  professional  sports,  the  ribbons  alone 
were  the  prizes.  At  the  close  of  the  last  session  the  prize  exhibits  of 


48  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

corn  were  sold  at  auction  to  the  highest  bidders.  By  this  means  good 
seed  corn  was  distributed  throughout  the  neighborhood.  The  Corn 
Congress  was  a  success.  Everybody  is  getting  ready  for  a  bigger, 
better  and  busier  one  this  year. 

For  the  women  a  series  of  monthly  meetings  was  held  on  Saturday 
afternoons.  Using  the  card  list  again,  postal  cards  were  sent  out  to 
three  hundred  women  living  within  driving  distance  of  the  school. 
The  three  school  wagons  were  run  over  the  regular  routes  to  bring  them 
to  the  meetings.  Thus  many  women  who  would  have  been  unable, 
because  of  the  farm  work,  to  secure  a  man  and  a  team  to  take  them 
to  the  school  were  enabled  to  attend.  The  meetings  opened  by  a 
general  session  at  which  one  person  spoke  for  fifteen  minutes.  This 
person  was  always  some  one  of  prominence  and  ability,  some  one 
vitally  concerned  in  the  world's  work.  The  address  was  followed  by 
music.  The  musicians  and  speakers  have  always  willingly  contributed 
their  services,  and  usually  came  from  the  city.  Following  the  general 
meeting,  the  women  divided  into  four  groups,  which  were  self-chosen 
and  continuous  throughout  the  year;  at  the  end  of  each  year  th 
groups  change. 

The  first  group  is  for  the  study  of  domestic  science.  The  women  do 
not  attend  a  demonstration,  but  each  works  with  the  individual  equip- 
ment placed  at  her  disposal.  Nickel-plated  cook  stoves,  bright  pans 
and  clean  china  add  to  the  attractiveness  of  the  work.  It  is  the  same 
type  of  study  given  the  children. 

The  second  group  does  carpentry  in  the  manual  training  room. 
The  women  are  taught  to  saw,  plane,  hammer  and  do  other  simpler 
operations.  It  will  not  be  necessary  for  those  women  to  wait  until 
their  husbands  find  time  to  build  the  chicken  coops. 

The  third  group  is  known  as  the  group  in  home  crafts.  Instruction 
is  given  in  chair  caning,  rug  weaving,  Indian  basketry,  stenciling,  etc. 

The  fourth  group  takes  up  a  study  of  modern  literature.  It 
designed  for  those  persons  who  prefer  to  find  in  the  meetings  a  rest 
and  relaxation  rather  than  a  means  of  industry.  Various  modern 
authors  are  successively  considered,  with  readings  from  each.  Re- 
cently other  groups  have  been  formed  in  millinery,  embroidery  and 
dress  fitting. 

The  meetings  have  had  an  average  attendance  of  one  hundred  at 
each  meeting  and  are  well  filling  the  place  for  which  they  were  intended. 

A  literary  society  was  formed  for  young  people  in  the  neighbor- 
hood who  happened  to  be  too  old  to  go  to  school.  The  society  meets 
once  in  two  weeks  and  has  a  membership  of  about  one  hundred  per- 
sons who  pay  dues  for  its  maintenance.  Spelling  bees,  debates  and 
other  so-called  literary  exercises  are  held,  and  serve  to  engender  a  bet- 
ter neighborhood  spirit,  while  enlivening  the  long  winter  evenings. 


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THE  SOCIAL  RESPONSIBILITY  OF  THE  SCHOOL         49 

A  reading  circle  on  the  Chautauqua  plan  meets  every  two  weeks, 
an  interesting  offshoot  of  the  main  society. 

During  the  summer  the  school  conducts  experiments  on  the  home 
farms  of  its  pupils.  All  boys  in  the  high  school  department  are 
expected  to  perform  at  home  an  experiment  of  their  own  selection 
during  the  summer  vacation.  This  is  in  order  to  bring  the  work  of  the 
school  to  the  people  at  large  as  well  as  concretely  to  emphasize  the 
instruction  of  the  winter  in  the  mind  of  the  student.  The  experi- 
ments, scattered  over  a  territory  twenty-five  miles  long  by  five  miles 
broad,  attract  much  attention  among  the  neighbors,  and  are  an  effi- 
cient demonstration  of  agricultural  ideas.  They  range  over  many 
subjects  according  to  the  choice  of  the  student.  Many  are  variety 
tests  of  corn  from  seed  furnished  by  the  school,  the  corn  being  grown 
under  modern  methods  by  the  student.  Other  students  are  testing 
herds  of  dairy  cows,  weighing  and  recording  the  milk  at  each  milk- 
ing and  making  frequent  Babcock  tests  of  the  butter-fat  content, 
while  still  others  conduct  a  variety  test  of  cowpeas  or  of  popcorn. 
The  experiments  are  closely  watched  from  the  school,  the  principal 
visiting  them  frequently  during  the  summer  and  advising  the  students 
concerning  them.  This  brings  the  principal  in  touch  with  the  home 
life  of  the  students  and  gives  the  boys  the  impetus  necessary,  some- 
times, to  carry  on  a  flagging  experiment. 

In  the  second  year  the  experimental  work  of  the  school  grew 
enormously.  Because  of  the  tests  conducted  during  the  first  summer, 
the  school  found  it  wise  to  continue  largely  the  variety  tests  of  corn. 
In  the  first  year  four  varieties  of  corn  were  given  to  each  of  fifteen  stu- 
dents in  the  school,  and  these  tested  under  identical  conditions  with 
the  home  variety  of  corn.  To  the  surprise  of  the  teacher,  every  one 
of  the  four  varieties  supplied  surpassed  in  yield  the  home  variety, 
and  in  all  instances  Boone  County  White,  one  of  the  varieties  tested, 
resulted  best  of  all. 

In  consequence,  it  was  thought  well  to  start  Boone  County  White 
at  many  places  throughout  the  county.  In  addition  it  was  determined 
to  conduct  extensive  variety  tests  with  potatoes  and  to  continue  the 
other  types  of  previous  experiments.  About  one  hundred  and  forty 
farmers  applied  for  experiments  and  were  supplied  with  seed  obtained 
from  the  State  Experiment  Station,  which  thus  materially  assisted 
in  the  work. 

Because  of  a  prize  of  $50  offered  for  the  best  yield  of  an  acre  of 
corn  raised  by  a  boy  under  eighteen,  there  were  ninety-six  boys  who 
applied  for  entrance  to  the  contest,  and  these  were  each  supplied  with 
enough  first  quality  Boone  County  White  seed  produced  by  the  school 
to  plant  their  acre.  About  one  hundred  other  boys,  who  were  unable 
to  secure  a  whole  acre,  asked  to  be  allowed  to  raise  corn  and  become 


50  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

members  of  the  Boys'  Corn  Club  which  the  school  now  formed.  They 
will  exhibit  the  best  ten  ears  at  the  Fall  Corn  Congress.  In  rural 
schools  all  over  the  county  the  boys'  corn  clubs  are  formed  or  forming, 
each  having  a  radius  of  two  miles.  These  clubs  are  leagued  together 
in  a  county  association,  with  its  headquarters  at  the  Agricultural 
High  School.  During  the  second  summer  the  principal  again  super- 
vised all  the  experimental  acres  of  corn,  numbering  in  all  over  two 
hundred. 

The  school  test  seeds  and  milk  for  farmers.  During  the  early 
spring  months  many  samples  of  clover  seed  were  submitted  for  a 
decision  of  the  weed  seeds  present  and  of  the  germinative  ability  of 
the  sample.  Throughout  the  entire  year  milk  and  cream  are  tested 
for  the  butter-fat  content.  As  many  farmers  in  the  neighborhood 
sell  their  product  by  the  amount  of  butter  fat  contained,  it  is  highly 
desirable  that  they  have  occasionally  an  authoritative  test  from  a 
disinterested  source  with  which  to  compare  the  tests  made  by  the 
dealer.  The  school  furnishes  the  test. 

With  the  activities  throughout  the  neighborhood  emanating  from 
the  new  school,  it  was  but  natural  that  there  should  be  a  renewed 
activity  along  lines  of  religious  organizations.  A  long  disused  chapel 
was  opened,  a  committee  of  ten  young  men  was  appointed  by  the 
principal,  and  regular  Sunday  night  meetings  for  young  people  were 
held.  The  people  looked  naturally  to  the  school  to  form  the  organiza- 
tion, supply  the  enthusiasm  and  lead  in  the  work.  About  one  hun- 
dred young  people  attended  the  meetings,  which  were  undenomina- 
tional in  character  and  marked  by  their  enthusiasm. 

The  community  work  of  the  school  has  not  proved  of  unusual 
difficulty,  nor  has  it  disclosed  obstacles  which  make  it  prohibitive  for 
any  school  anywhere.  On  the  contrary,  the  work  has  proved  easier 
than  seemed  possible  and  more  successful  than  appeared  probable. 
Many  of  the  dilemmas  conjured  up  by  pessimistic  advisers  never 
materialized.  From  this  experience  it  seems  certain  that  every 
agricultural  high  school  in  the  county  —  even  those  like  this  with  a 
small  faculty,  small  funds  and  small  buildings  —  can  make  a  success 
of  community  work. 

Thus,  when  developed  to  its  full  extent,  the  agricultural  high  school 
is  more  than  a  mere  institution  for  the  instruction  of  children.  It  is 
an  educational  force  for  the  whole  family,  and  a  social,  cultural  and 
ethical  center  for  the  entire  community.  The  expansion  of  the  coun- 
try high  school  into  an  agricultural  high  school  is  more  than  the  addi- 
tion of  subjects  to  the  curriculum  and  a  change  in  name.  It  is  an 
entire  change  in  the  point  of  view.  Educators  are  beginning  to  see 
that  ultimately  one  of  the  greatest  fields  of  work  of  the  agricultural 
high  schools  may  be  with  that  portion  of  the  community  which  does 


THE   SOCIAL   RESPONSIBILITY  OF  THE   SCHOOL         51 

lot  usually  attend  school  at  all  and  for  which  the  school  funds  are  not 
isually  appropriated.  It  is  by  its  work  with  the  community  at  large  — 
with  the  men  and  women  on  the  farms  —  that  the  agricultural  high 
school  may  find  its  strongest  claim  on  popular  attention  and  its  greatest 
ield  for  vital  service. 

B.  H.  Crocheron,  Principal  of  the  Agricultural  High  School  of  Baltimore  County, 
Maryland.  Revised  and  enlarged  by  the  author  from  an  article  first  published  in 
the  Tenth  Yearbook  of  the  National  Society  for  the  Study  of  Education. 

PROBLEMS  FOR  STUDY  AND  DISCUSSION 

1.  To  what  extent  does  the  agricultural  high  school  offer  a  solu- 
tion to  the  problem  of  adapting  rural  education  to  rural  life  ? 

2.  Advantages  of  work  of  such  a  school  over  that  carried  on  merely 
through  small  isolated  country  schools. 

3.  Advantages  and  disadvantages  of  the  consolidation  of  country 
schools. 

4.  What  is  to  be  said  against  having  the  consolidated  school  in 
a  village  or  town  ? 

5.  Character   of   the   consolidation   effected   in   Ohio,    Indiana, 
Nebraska,  Illinois,  etc.  ?    Cf.  Bulletin  No.  332  of  the  U.  S.  Dept.  of 
Agriculture. 

6.  The  history  and  work  of  the  John  Swaney  School  of  MacNabb, 
"llinois. 

7.  The  Rural  School  Improvement  League  of  Maine,  aims  and 
practical  work.    Reports  of  State  Dept.  of  Education. 

8.  The  work  of  boys'  and  girls'  agricultural  and  home  improve- 
ment clubs.     Howe,  F.  W.,  "Rural  school  extension  through  boys' 
and  girls'  agricultural  clubs,"  Tenth  Yearbook  of  the  N.  S.  S.  E.y  Pt.  II  : 
20  ;  Bulletins  issued  by  Dept.  of  Public  Instruction  of  Nebraska. 

9.  "  How  the  rural  schools  may  promote  better  housekeeping," 
Bishop,  E.  C.,  N.  S.  S.  E.,  Pt.  II  :  34. 

10.  "The  rural  school  and  art,"  Kern,  O.  J.,  N.  S.  S.  E.,  Pt.  II  :  44. 

11.  "Recreation  as  an  aspect  of  the  rural  life  problem,"     Scudder, 
M.  F.,  N.  S.  S.  E.,  Pt.  II  :  53. 

12.  "Getting  the  people  together  in  the  one-room  district  school," 


BIBLIOGRAPHY  ON  RURAL  EDUCATION  AND  RURAL  LIFE 

ACKERMAN,  J.  H.     "The  problem  of  the  rural  school,"  Lewis  and 
Clark  Educational  Congress,  p.  77. 

BAILEY,  L.  H.     Cyclopedia  of  Agriculture,  Vol.  IV.    Various  articles 
dealing  with  betterment  of  rural  social  life,  e.g.  traveling  libraries, 


52  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

pictures,  leagues  for  rural  progress,  fairs,  chautauquas  and  clubs, 
the  school  problem,  etc. 

BISHOP,  E.  C.  "  Nebraska  boys'  and  girls'  associations,"  Nebraska 
University  Bulletins,  Series  XII,  Nos.  n  and  12. 

BUTTERFIELD,  K.  L.  Chapters  in  Rural  Progress.  Chicago,  1907. 
A  clear,  practical  discussion  of  the  problem  and  steps  toward  its 
solution.  Extracts  reprinted  in  this  section. 

CROSBY,  D.  J.  "Boys'  agricultural  clubs,"  U.  S.  Department  of 
Agriculture,  Yearbook  for  1904,  489-496. 

.     "  Progress  in  agricultural    education,   1909."     Reprint  fror 

Annual  Report  of  the  Office  of  Experiment  Stations  (1909),  251-325 

DAVENPORT,  E.    Education  for  Efficiency,  Chapters  VII,  X  (1909) 

DAVIS,  B.  M.     "Agricultural  education:  Various  agencies  contrit 
uting  to  its  recent  development."  EL  S.  T.      A  series  of  fourte 
articles  beginning  with  Vol.  X,  No.  3  (1909). 

ELLIOTT,  E.  C.  "  Some  problems  of  the  rural  school  situation,"  Atlantic 
School  Journal.  A  series  of  articles  beginning  with  Vol.  IV, 
No.  6  (1909). 

FOGHT,  H.  W.  The  American  Rural  School.  New  York,  1910. 
Especially  Chapters  X,  XI.  History,  social  importance  and 
methods  of  agricultural  education :  a  bibliography. 

GRICE,  MARY  V.  Home  and  School,  pp.  48-60.  Gives  plans  for 
organizing  home  and  school  associations  in  the  country. 

HAYES,  W.  M.  "Education  for  country  life,"  U.  S.  Dept.  of  Agri- 
culture, Office  of  Experiment  Stations,  Circular  No.  84,  1909. 

HEWITT,  W.  C.  "An  ideal  district  school,"  Western  Journal  of  Edu- 
cation, i :  159-160.  With  gymnasium  and  workshop. 

HIATT,  EDWARD.  Opportunity  for  the  California  High  School:  In- 
dustrial and  Agricultural  Education,  California  State  Department 
of  Education,  Special  Bulletin  (July,  1910). 

HILL,  L.  B.  "A  rural  high  school,"  S.  Rev.,  18:  264.  April,  1910. 
In  Tyler  County,  West  Virginia  (of  300  sq.  mi.  and  18,000  peo- 
ple. School  established  1908.  Last  year's  enrollment  69).  Offers 
Industrial  and  College  Prep.  Course.  The  initiative  to  its  es- 
tablishment came  from  the  people.  Successful. 

HOCKENBERY,  J.  C.  "Economicand  social  conditions  of  the  present- 
day  rural  communities,"  Rural  School  in  the  United  States,  pp.  8- 
17,  1908. 

HOWE,  F.  W.  "Boys'  and  girls'  clubs,"  Farmer's  Bulletin,  No.  385 
(1910). 


THE  SOCIAL  RESPONSIBILITY  OF  THE  SCHOOL         53 

JEWELL,  JAMES  R.  "Agricultural  education,  including  nature  study 
and  school  gardens,"  U.  S.  Bureau  of  Education,  Bulletin 
No.  2  (1907,  revised  1909),  148. 

JOYNER,  J.  J.  "The  adjustment  of  the  rural  school  to  the  conditions 
of  rural  life  as  observed  in  the  rural  schools  of  Page  County,  Iowa," 
Conference  for  Education  in  the  South,  Proceedings  (1910),  69-76. 

KERN,  O.  J.    Among  Country  Schools.    Boston.     1906. 

KNAPP,  SEAMAN  A.  "What  can  the  teacher  do  for  the  improve- 
ment of  rural  conditions?"  North  Carolina  Teachers1  Assembly, 
Proceedings  and  Addresses  (igog),  116-130.  (Raleigh,  N.C.) 

KNORR.     "Consolidated    rural     schools,"    Bulletin    No.  232,   U.S. 

Department  of  Agriculture,  Office  of  Experiment  Stations.     Most 

complete  account  of  the  movement  by  states ;  contains  valuable 

tables,  figures  and  illustrations. 
National  Society  for  the  Study  of  Education,  "The  rural  school  as  a 

community  center,"  Tenth  Yearbook,  Pt.  II. 
PLUNKETT,  SIR  HORACE.     The  Rural  Life  Problem  in  the  United  States. 

An  acute  and  suggestive  analysis  of  the  situation. 

loss,  EDWARD  A.  "The  pull  of  the  city  upon  the  country," 
Social  Psychology,  p.  181. 

SCUDDER,  MYRON  T.  "  The  Field  Day  and  the  Play  Picnic  for  Country 
Schools,"  Publications  of  Playground  Association  of  America. 

SOULE,  A.  M.  "Work  of  the  agricultural  school  in  the  scheme  of 
state  education,"  S.  Ed.  Rev.,  Vol.  V  (1908),  176-187. 

STERN,  R.  B.  Neighborhood  Entertainments.  New  York,  1911.  Valu- 
able suggestions  for  developing  social  life  in  the  country. 

TRUE,  A.  C.  "Some  problems  of  the  rural  common  school,"  Year- 
book of  the  Department  of  Agriculture,  for  1901,  p.  133. 

,  AND  CROSBY,  D.  J.  "The  American  system  of  agricultural 

education,"  U.  S.  Depart,  of  Agriculture,  Office  of  Experiment 
Stations,  Circular  No.  83  (1909). 

Various  Authors,  "The  life  of  the  farmer  from  different  points  of 
view,"  Outlook,  91 : 823-834.  The  lure  of  the  city :  Country 
teacher  not  suited  to  the  needs  of  the  country  ;  discontent  de- 
veloped in  country  boys  and  girls  by  attending  town  high  schools  ; 
social  interests  lacking  ;  inconveniences  of  the  farm  home. 

WILSON,  H.  L.  "Some  economic  and  social  aspects  of  rural  school 
problems,"  Am.  Ed.,  10 :  439-446,  1907.  The  depletion  of  rural 
population  to  be  checked  by  better  country  schools,  training  for 
farm,  and  filling  social  needs  of  rural  population. 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE    SOCIAL    RELATIONS    OF   HOME    AND    SCHOOL 

Introduction:  Home  and  School 

THE  efficiency  of  the  school  as  a  social  agency  in  the  larger  sense 
depejadgtin  a  great  degreejipon  the  closeness  of  its-contact-and  cooper- 
atiqn  with  the  home.  Historically  there  are  the  best  of  reasons  for 
an  intimate  relationship.  The  primitive  home  had  a  large  share  in 
the  education  of  the  child.  If  the  complex  and  insistent  economic 
needs  of  the  modern  household  have  forced  it  to  give  up  some  of  its 
educational  functions,  it  should  not  be  the  less  interested  in  the  work 
of  those  to  whom  these  functions  have  been  delegated.  Even  though 
taken  from  the  home,  the  successful  education  of  the  child  physically, 
intellectually  and  morally  depends  upon  the  home's  sympathy  and 
support.  The  pendency  of  the  school  to  lose  touch-Kith,  thejhome,  its 
interests  and  its  point  of  view,  is  simply  another  aspect  of  the  tendency 
notecTin  an"  e^r1teTl:1rapte7riramely,  that  of  all  institutfons  to  acquire 
an  inertia  and  an  irr_ejr^nsiyene^s_l^)_the.gejieral  social  body  which 
they  exist  to  serve. 

Thus  the  home  and  the  school  have  often  drifted  far  apart.  The 
former,  relieved  of  the  routine  of  instruction,  assumes  that  the  school 
is  doing  its  duty,  and  while  acutely  interested  in  the  outcome,  often 
becomes  indifferent  to  the  detailed  problems  and  methods  of  the  school. 
Sometimejs  Jjie^ jiorng  even  imagines^ jtsjfctterests  jyLe__antagpnistic  to 
the  ideals  of  the  school,  and  hostility  latent  or  active  develops.  Lack 
of  inlel-esrimcT^T^h^  to  speak  of  hostility  —  can- 

not but  seriously  interfere  with  the  efficiency  of  instruction. 

In  the  pioneer  ^days  of  our  country  the  teacher  was  much  more  one 
of  the  people  than  he  is  to-day.  He  lived  among  them,  often  boarding 
for  a  time  in  each  family.  From  many  different  points  of  view,  he 


THE  SOCIAL  RELATIONS  OF  HOME  AND   SCHOOL      55 

Jwas  an  important  factor  in  the  life  of  the  community.  The  teacher 
•of  to-day,  especially  in  the  city,  has  little  opportunity  to  acquire  this 
•intimate  knowledge  of  the  homes  of  his  pupils.  Even  in  the  smaller 
I  communities,  where  he  should  know  the  people  well,  he  is  often  never 
received  into  the  parent s'  homes. 

The  task  of  bringing  the  home  and  the  school  together  into  some 
sort  of  active  cooperative  relationship,  or  at  least  developing  a  mutual 
understanding  between  them,  is  one  of  the  problems  of  the  larger  view 
of  education  current  to-day.  It  is  recognized  that  the  agencies  of 
public  education  may  properly  extend  their  work  of  instruction  to 
the  adult  members  of  the  community.  The  bringing  of  parent  and 
school  together  is  a  part  of  this  work  of  school  extension.  It  is  socially 
important,  not  merely  because  it  is  enlightening  to  the  parent,  but  be- 
cause it  makes  directly  for  greater  efficiency  within  the  school  itself. 
It  is  socially  important  for  the  home  and  school  to  come  together,  not 
merely  because  it  may  be  enlightening  to  the  parent,  but  also  because 
it  may  broaden  the  teacher's  point  of  view.  "  The  teacher  very  much 
needs  the  stimulus  and  the  enlightenment  that  comes  from  a  compre- 
hensive knowledge  of  the  home  life  of  his  pupils.  It  is  evident,  also, 
that  the  teacher's  restricted  life  and  petty  cares  tend  to  narrow 
his  vision  and  to  inhibit  his  imagination.  His  attention  is  so  focused 
that  he  often  fails  to  grasp  the  larger  life  of  the  community  in  which 
he  lives  and  which  the  school  is  organized  to  serve."  1  The  school 
can  scarcely  be  of  great  social  service  unless  the  teachers  study  the 
life  of  the  community,  mingle  freely  with  the  people,  and  by  sympa- 
thetic contact  with  parents  and  homes  learn  something  of  the  conditions 
under  which  school  children  are  reared  and  something  of  the  training 
they  require  for  the  life  they  will  have  to  lead. 

On  the  other  hand,  a  democratic  community  needs  to  have  its  imagi- 
nation quickened  as  to  the  needs  of  the  school.  Only  thus  can  needed 
equipment  be  readily  secured  and  the  highest  standard  in  the  teaching 
force  be  maintained.  An  educated  public  sentiment  is  a  support  to  a 
good  school  board  and  a  check  to  an  inefficient  one. 

These  are  various  ways  of  bringing  to  pass  a  proper  cooperation 
of  home  and  school.  First  of  all,  there  are  the  informal  visits  of  par- 
ents to  the  school,  either  to  see  the  work  of  the  classes  or  to  consult 

1  E.  J.  Goodwin,  "School  and  Home,"  School  Review,  16:  320. 


56  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

with  principal  or  superintendent.  "  The  principal  of  the  school  has 
in  his  own  hands  the  most  simple  and  direct  means  of  bringing  the 
school  and  home  into  mutually  helpful  relations.  He  should  have 
capacity  for  genuine  friendships,  and  should  seek  thereby  so  to  com- 
mand the  acquaintance  and  confidence  of  the  community  that  visits 
of  parents  to  the  school  may  be  made  freely  and  frequently.  Such 
visits  are  facilitated  by  invitations  to  inspect  the  classroom  work  on 
designated  days,  to  be  present  at  public  exercises  in  the  school  gym- 
nasium, to  attend  informal  lantern-slide  lectures  given  by  a  teacher 
upon  some  interesting  phase  of  school  instruction,  to  witness  school 
debates,  literary  exercises  and  graduation  ceremonies  in  which  the 
speakers  should  be  students  of  the  school. 

"  Exhibits  of  school  work  yield  unbounded  delights  to  children,  and 
no  less  pleasure  to  parents.  They  often  unlock  the  door  that  bars 
the  parent  from  entrance  into  his  child's  school  life,  which  is  so  unlike 
that  of  the  home  and  so  apart  from  it  that  the  child  otherwise  fails 
to  get  the  parental  encouragement  and  sympathetic  guidance  which 
at  times  he  sorely  needs."  1 

In  some  places  provision  is  made  for  a  "  parents'  night,"  it  being 
easier  for  both  fathers  and  mothers  to  come  and  inspect  the  work  of 
the  school  in  the  evening  than  during  the  day.  At  such  a  time  the 
regular  work  of  the  school  is  carried  on,  and  afterwards  simple  refresh- 
ments are  served.  The  children  are  then  dismissed,  and  a  brief  confer- 
ence of  parents  and  teachers  is  held.  For  various  reasons  this  plan 
is  suited  to  the  grammar  and  secondary  school  grades,  rather  than  to 
those  of  the  elementary  period.  In  the  George  Dixon  Secondary 
School  of  Birmingham,  England,  it  has  been  a  regular  feature  for  a 
number  of  years.  "  The  experience  of  every  member  of  the  staff  shows 
emphatically  that  the  benefit  resulting  from  '  Parents'  Nights  '  has 
been  much  greater  than  was  ever  expected."  This  school  sends  out 
invitations  to  the  parents  once  or  twice  a  year,  and  the  response  has 
always  been  excellent.2 

"  But  the  most  effective  and  permanent  means  of  promoting  close 
relationship  and  sympathy  between  the  school  and  the  home  are, 

1  E.  J.  Goodwin,  "  School  and  Home,"  School  Review,  16  :  327-328. 
2W.  S.  Walton,  "Parent  and  Schoolmaster  in  Education,"  Westminster  Review,  April 
1911,  pp.  379-389- 


THE  SOCIAL  RELATIONS  OF  HOME  AND   SCHOOL      57 

doubtless,  voluntary  associations  of  parents  which  provide  for  an  in- 
ductive study  of  local  conditions  and  for  concerted  action.  These 
associations  in  the  congested  districts  of  our  large  cities  are  multiply- 
ing rapidly  and  seem  to  be  the  outgrowth  of  an  educational  impulse 
not  only  to  assist  the  work  of  the  school,  but  to  supplement  it  by  mani- 
festing an  active  interest  in  the  children  that  come  from  homes  of 
ignorance  and  poverty.  Such  organizations  are  doing  a  unique  work 
in  developing  among  parents  a  feeling  of  responsibility  to  cooperate 
with  the  school  in  the  education  of  their  children,  and  especially  in 
disclosing  the  shortcomings  of  the  school."  1 

The  need  for  these  associations  of  parents  and  teachers  is  as  great 
in  the  smaller  towns  and  even  in  the  rural  districts.  As  Garber  says,2 
"  Probably  the  most  discouraging  thing  connected  with  the  whole 
rural  school  problem  is  the  indifference  of  the  home.  The  new  in- 
terest in  agriculture  is  helping  in  a  way.  ...  It  is  quite  clear  that 
no  teacher  or  teachers  can  alone  make  a  good  school.  The  interests 
of  the  child  demand  the  interest  of  the  home.  For,  after  all,  the  child 
finds  its  most  impelling  forces  in  the  place  and  in  the  persons  where 
its  earliest  instincts  are  most  firmly  embedded.  And  father's  or  mother's 
word,  or  evidence  of  their  approval  or  disapproval,  can  make  or  mar 
much  that  is  done  in  the  school." 

Two  types  of  meetings  should  be  provided  for  by  the  parent-teacher 
associations,  one  in  which  all  the  parents  and  teachers  of  a  school  come 
together  "  for  a  social  time  and  to  hear  and  discuss  a  paper  on  some 
subject  of  mutual  interest,"  and  another,  in  which  each  grade  teacher 
meets  the  mothers  of  her  particular  group  of  children.  One  practical 
worker  regards  this  individual  grade  meeting  as  "  the  very  founda- 
tion of  a  successful  parents'  association,  for  it  is  here  that  we  work  out 
our  ideals  and  accomplish  that  intimate  intercourse  between  mother, 
teacher  and  child  which  is  so  vital  to  the  work."  3  It  is  on  the  basis 
of  the  interest  aroused  in  these  grade  meetings  that  the  father's  sym- 
pathies are  enlisted  and  both  parents  attend  the  larger  evening  meet- 
ings of  the  entire  association. 

"  Some  teachers  and  school  officials  seem  to  be  apprehensive  lest 
these  organizations  may  assume  an  unwarranted  and  meddlesome  con- 

1  Goodwin,  op.  cit.,  p.  328.          2  Annals  of  Educational  Progress  in  ipio,  p.  228. 
5  Mrs.  Floyd  Frazier,  School  Review,  16 :  82. 


58  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF   EDUCATION 

trol  over  the  organization  and  work  of  the  school,  but  this  is  hardly 
to  be  feared  for  the  reason  that  cooperation  is  their  avowed  purpose, 
and  because  the  public  opinion  of  a  community  will  not  justify  a  local 
association  in  a  direct  and  radical  interference  with  the  established 
procedure  of  a  public  school. 

"  Associations  of  parents  have  already  demonstrated  their  service- 
ableness  within  the  field  of  school  education.  What  they  may  do 
hereafter  to  weld  together  our  heterogeneous  population,  to  carry 
help  and  healing  to  the  homes  of  the  poor  and  unfortunate,  and  to 
make  the  school  plant  accessible  for  evening  instruction  to  parents  in 
the  domestic  arts  and  for  social  and  literary  entertainment  to  children 
and  their  parents,  are  questions  that  must  be  answered  in  the  light  of 
experiment  and  experience.  That  great  good  is  in  the  way  of  ac- 
complishment, there  can  be  no  doubt."  L 

Parents'  Associations  and  the  Public  Schools 

The  formation  of  parents'  associations  connected  with  the  schools 
is  a  part  of  the  wider  movement  for  the  social  utilization  of 

the    School    plant.    .    .    .      This     mov^rnp^t     frpgan     wjf,h     fhf-  IgpHpr- 

garten^  which  established  the  custom  of  holding  mothers'  meetings. 
In  these  meetings,  the  mothers  and  kindergartner  talk  over  the  chil- 
dren and  discuss  the  functions  of  the  home  as  related  to  those  of  the 
school.  In  many  places,  this  mutual  cooperation  between  kinder- 
gartner and  mother  has  grown,  until  regularly  organized  mothers' 
clubs  have  been  formed.  These  have  much  advantage  over  the 
mothers'  meetings;  for  permanent  organization  brings  with  it 
permanent  interest.  Mothers'  meetings  and  mothers'  clubs,  how- 
ever, have  not  been  limited  to  the  kindergarten ;  they  are  also  found 
in  connection  with  the  higher  grades  of  the  school.  Moreover,  the 
idea  has  grown  until  the  mothers'  clubs  have  developed  into  parents' 
meetings  and  parents'  clubs  or  parents'  associations,  as  they  are 
called.  Fathers,  as  well  as  mothers,  have  become  interested  in  the 
work.  These  associations  are  not  compulsory,  but  have  generally 
been  formed  at  the  pleasure  of  the  school  principal,  either  by  his  own 
personal  efforts  or  at  the  suggestion  of  parents  or  citizens. 

Several  women's  organizations  have  become  interested  in  this  move- 
ment, and  have  been  of  material  assistance  to  teachers  and  parents  in 
getting  them  together.  Probably  the  body  which  has  accomplished  the 
most  in  this  direction  is  the  National  Congress  of  Mothers,  which  has 

1  Goodwin,  op.  cit.,  p.  329. 


THE  SOCIAL  RELATIONS  OF  HOME  AND   SCHOOL      59 

for  one  of  its  chief  aims  the  formation  of  mothers'  clubs  and  parent- 
teacher  associations.  It  has  a  state  organizer  in  nearly  every  state 
in  the  Union,  and  many  hundreds  of  clubs  formed  under  its  direction 
are  doing  most  commendable  work.  Their  object  is,  according  to 
Article  II  of  the  constitution :  "  To  bring  into  closer  relation  the  home 
and  the  school ;  that  parents  and  teachers  may  intelligently  cooper- 
ate in  the  education  of  the  child."  Each  association  joins  the  Na- 
tional Congress  of  Mothers,  which  provides  helpful  literature  on  sub- 
jects of  interest  to  parents  and  teachers,  and  also  offers  suggestive 
programs  and  speakers.  .  .  . 

Work  of  the  Boston  Associations.  The  parent- teacher  associations, 
which  perhaps  come  nearer  than  any  others  to  the  general  idea  of 
bringing  school  and  community  together,  are  those  in  Boston,  which 
were  established  by  the  conference  committee  on  moral  education. 
The  first  was  organized  in  May,  1905.  .  .  . 

"  Its  aims/'  says  the  annual  report,  "  are  threefold :  to  bring  the 
home  and  the  school  together;  to  instruct  the  parents  concerning 
the  care  of  their  children;  and  to  promote  the  social  interests  of  the 
neighborhood.  To  accomplish  the  first  object,  efforts  have  been 
made  to  acquaint  the  parent  with  the  teacher's  work  in  developing 
the  child  intellectually,  physically  and  morally;  and,  on  the  other 
hand,  to  explain  to  the  teacher  the  problems  with  which  the  parent 
has  to  deal.  This  has  been  brought  about  through  talks,  given  by 
teachers  and  parents  at  the  monthly  meetings  of  the  association,  and 
by  means  of  teas,  held  after  every  meeting  where  parents  and  teachers 
come  together  in  a  social  way  for  interchange  of  thoughts. 

These  talks,  which  the  report  goes  on  to  describe,  seem  remarkably 
comprehensive  and  pointed.  Among  those  given  by  the  teachers 
were  brief  explanations  of  the  course  of  study  and  the  aims  of  the 
teacher  in  physical  and  moral  training,  with  particular  emphasis  on 
the  necessity  of  cooperation  between  teachers  and  parents.  Other 
topics  were:  Specific  Instances  in  which  the  Parent  can  Cooperate 
with  the  Teacher;  Cleanliness  in  the  Schoolroom;  How  Children 
Spend  their  Evenings,  and  Cigarette  Smoking  among  School 
Children. 

Among  the  subjects  presented  by  the  parents,  were:  Fighting 
among  boys,  gambling,  cigarette  smoking,  novel  reading,  theater 
going,  spending  pennies  for  cheap  candy,  playing  in  the  street,  etc. 
In  consequence  of  some  of  these  talks,  a  committee  was  appointed 
to  find  out  what  evening  opportunities  for  amusement  or  education 
in  the  neighborhood  were  open  to  boys  and  girls.  At  a  subsequent 
meeting  this  committee  reported  and  recommended  that  the  teachers 
inform  their  pupils  of  the  places  where  they  might  go  for  healthful 
amusement  and  instruction. 


60  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

At  another  meeting,  one  of  the  mothers  spoke  of  the  filthy  condition 
of  some  of  the  streets,  yards  and  vacant  lots  in  the  neighborhood, 
declaring  "  that  dirt  and  disorder  lower  the  morals  of  the  children," 
and  a  committee  was  subsequently  appointed  to  make  an  investiga- 
tion, and  to  recommend  improvements.  "  Through  these  talks," 
the  report  says,  "  the  parents  have  become  more  familiar  with  the 
teacher's  problems,  and  the  teacher  has  learned  to  interpret  the  child 
from  the  parent's  point  of  view." 

Instructing  the  fathers  and  mothers.  Not  only,  however,  have  these 
meetings  brought  the  home  and  school  into  happy  cooperation,  they 
have  also  fulfilled  the  second  object  of  this  association;  namely, 
"  to  instruct  the  parents  concerning  the  care  of  their  children."  The 
main  address  at  each  meeting  was  devoted  to  such  instruction.  Dur- 
ing the  year,  there  were  five  lectures  on  the  physical  development  of 
the  child  and  two  on  the  moral  welfare.  Three  of  these  on  the  physi- 
cal development  were  given  by  the  medical  inspector  of  the  district. 
These  lectures  have  proved  an  efficient  agency  for  giving  medical  in- 
struction to  the  parents.  That  they  have  helped  the  medical  inspector 
in  the  performance  of  his  duties,  thereby  making  inspection  a  live 
issue  in  this  community,  is  proved  by  personal  testimony.  .  .  . 

The  enthusiasm  in  all  these  associations  is  gratifying.  "  Why 
haven't  we  had  them  before?  "  is  constantly  being  asked.  The 
mothers  are  glad  to  assume  much  of  the  responsibility  in  carrying  on 
the  work,  and  take  a  great  deal  of  pride  in  making  the  teas  pretty  and 
attractive.  Too  much  cannot  be  said  of  the  value  of  the  teas.  Here, 
everybody  is  expected  to  speak  to  everybody  else,  and  over  a  cup  of 
tea,  which  seems  to  have  a  magic  charm  for  producing  cordiality  and 
geniality,  the  teachers  and  parents  mingle;  grievances  vanish,  and 
many  a  hard  boy  or  girl  has  been  converted  into  a  helpful,  conscien- 
tious pupil  as  a  result  of  a  friendly  chat  at  one  of  these  teas.  .  .  . 

The  whole  result  of  this  work  in  Boston  seems  to  demonstrate  con- 
clusively that  these  organizations  supply  a  real  need  in  the  educational 
system.  What  these  associations  have  done  in  their  own  localities 
indicates  what  similar  organizations  may  do  for  the  other  school  dis- 
tricts. Being  a  part  of  the  general  movement  for  the  social  utiliza- 
tion of  the  schools,  and  having  a  definite,  distinct  function  to  perform 
in  this  movement,  they  should  not  spring  up  by  chance ;  nor  should 
their  activities  be  left  to  the  accidental  enthusiasm  of  a  teacher  or 
parent.  The  underlying  principles  of  every  parent-teacher  associa- 
tion should  be  alike ;  they  should  aim  to  elevate  the  intellectual  and 
social  life  of  the  community.  It  is  evident,  of  course,  that  the  specific 
problems  of  each  association  will  be  peculiar  to  the  district  in  which 
it  has  been  formed.  What  would  elevate  one  neighborhood  might 
have  no  application  whatever  to  another.  It  suggests  itself,  therefore, 


THE  SOCIAL  RELATIONS  OF  HOME  AND   SCHOOL       61 

that  there  should  be  some  recognized  authority  in  every  city  to  organize 
and  guide  parent-teacher  associations.  Logically,  every  school  district 
of  the  city  should  be  represented  in  such  an  organization,  which  shall 
deal  with  the  intellectual  and  social  problems  peculiar  to  the  district. 
Since  these  associations  are  so  intimately  connected  with  the  school 
system,  they  would  most  naturally  come  under  the  direction  of  the 
school  committee,  which  is  the  guiding  force  in  all  the  other  forms  of 
educational  endeavor.  The  school  committee  should  use  its  good 
offices  to  create  among  the  parents  and  teachers  of  a  school  district  a 
sentiment  in  favor  of  establishing  a  forum  for  the  exchange  of  ideas 
on  the  intellectual  and  social  development  of  the  district.  And  further 
they  should  provide  the  facilities  for  the  consummation  of  the  plan. 
Schoolhouses  should  be  placed  at  the  disposal  of  parent-teacher  as- 
sociations ;  lecture  service  should  be  provided  out  of  the  school  funds, 
and  such  printed  matter  as  constitution  and  by-laws,  invitations  to 
meetings  and  annual  reports  should  be  issued  by  the  school  committee 
at  the  request  of  the  association.  There  are  many  other  ways  in 
which  a  school  committee  can  further  such  organizations  —  by 
furnishing  the  facilities  for  the  tea,  or  the  paraphernalia  for  an  enter- 
tainment —  without  assuming  a  controlling  attitude.  The  parent- 
teacher  association  would  become  a  preeminently  democratic  insti- 
tution —  an  organizer  of  enlightened  public  opinion  on  all  educational 
matters.  The  combined  force  of  all  these  associations  in  a  city  would 
constitute  an  educational  support,  invaluable  to  a  body  chosen  by 
the  people  to  watch  over  and  direct  their  educational  interests. 

Fannie  Fern  Andrews,  in  Charities  and  the  Commons,  17  :  335,  1906-1907.    Courtesy 
Charities  Publication  Committee. 

PROBLEMS  FOR  FURTHER  DISCUSSION  AND  STUDY 

1.  State  the  various  influences  in  different  communities  which 
have  tended  to  keep  the  school  and  the  home  apart. 

2.  State  the  possible  objections  to  parent-teacher  associations. 

3.  Summarize  carefully  the  advantages  that  have  actually  been 
noted.    To  what  extent  do  you  think  they  might  be  realized  every- 
where ? 

4.  Write  out  a  brief  description  of  a  community  known  to  you, 
showing  the  extent  to  which  it  might  be  benefited  by  a  closer  associa- 
tion of  school  and  home.     Specify  the  means  you  might  properly  use 
to  get  an  association  organized,  the  objections  you  would  probably 
meet  with,  and  how  you  would  seek  to  overcome  them. 

5.  From  your  various  readings  and  observations,  make  a  list  of 
subjects  which  might  properly  be  discussed  in  an  association  of  parents 
and  teachers. 


62  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

6.  Examine  the  available  reports  of  superintendents  and  boards 
of  education  of  large  cities  to  determine  the  extent  to  which  the  as- 
sociations of  parents  and  teachers  are  currently  developed.     Note 
carefully  variations  in  methods  and  aims. 

7.  Look  up  the  work  in  Texas,  in  which  state  the  idea  of  home  and 
school  associations  is  said  to  have  been  developed  further  than  any- 
where else. 

8.  Describe  the  "Parents'  Night"  of  the  George  Dixon  School, 
Birmingham,   England.     (See   Westminster  Review,   April,    1911,   p. 

379-) 

BIBLIOGRAPHY  ON  HOME  AND   SCHOOL 

ANDREWS,  FANNIE  F.  "Parents'  associations  and  the  public  schools," 
Charities,  17:335-343,  1907.  Extracts  from,  reprinted  in  this 
section. 

BENDER,  IDA  C.  "Relation  of  citizen  and  teacher,"  N.  E.  A.,  1897, 
p.  248.  Schools  once  more  influential  in  community.  Lower 
standards  of  public  duty  have  resulted.  Need  of  cooperation  of 
school  and  citizen  in  social  problems. 

BUTLER,  NATHANIEL,  AND  OTHERS.  "Parents'  associations,"  S.  Rev., 
16 :  78-88,  1908.  A  good  discussion  of  the  need  and  of  the  means 
of  meeting  it. 

CASSIDY,  M.  A.  "School  and  home  training,"  Ed.,  19:535.  Need 
of  more  direct  sympathetic  relation  of  teacher  and  mother. 

DEWEY,  J.    School  and  Society,  various  portions  of.     Chicago,  1899. 

EGGLESTON,  EDWARD.  The  Hoosier  Schoolmaster,  The  Hoosier  School- 
boy. Give  good  portrayals  of  the  place  of  the  teacher  in  the 
pioneer  community. 

FINDLAY,  J.  J.  "Corporate  life  of  the  school,"  S.  Rev.,  16:605. 
Discusses  the  English  parent  and  the  school. 

.     "The  parent  and  the  school,"  International  Journal  of  Ethics, 

18:  92,  1908. 

CAREER,  J.  P.  Annals  of  Educational  Progress  during  the  Year  igio, 
pp.  227-229.  A  brief  statement  of  the  importance  of  a  closer 
affiliation  of  home  and  school. 

GOODWIN,  E.  J.     "School  and  home,"  S.  Rev.,  16 :  320-329.    A  good 

article. 
GRICE,  MARY  V.    Home  and  School.    Deals  with  practical  problems 

of  organization  of  home  and  school  associations. 

HALSEY,  R.  H.  "School  and  community,"  N.  E.  A.,  1897,  257. 
Importance  of  social  and  instructional  meetings  for  the  com- 


THE  SOCIAL  RELATIONS  OF  HOME  AND   SCHOOL       63 

munity;    school  should  be  open  to  inspection  and  criticism  of 
parents;   teacher  must  be  clearly  a  citizen. 

HAMILTON,  C.  "Relation  of  the  home  and  the  school/'  EL  S.  T., 
7  : 131-140.  The  need  of  school  life  finding  an  outlet  in  the  home. 
How  to  eliminate  the  obstacles  to  home  and  school  associations. 
Ways  home  may  help  the  school. 

HANUS,  PAUL.  "School  and  home,"  in  his  Modern  School.  Co- 
operation of  home,  community  and  school  necessary  in  so  im- 
portant an  undertaking  as  education  of  child. 

HARDING,  CHAS.  F.  "The  Parents'  Association  of  the  School  of  Edu- 
cation," S.  Rev.,  18: 153.  States  briefly  the  work  of  this  associa- 
tion. 

HEFFERAN,  HELEN  M.  "Parents'  and  teachers'  organizations," 
El.  S.  T.,  1904-1905,  p.  241.  Describes  things  done  in  Chicago 
in  parents'  clubs ;  method  of  procedure,  etc. 

Home  and  School  Associations,  in  "  Educational  progress  for  1908," 
S.  Rev.,  17  :  300-301.  Methods  of  New  York.  Widespread  char- 
acter of  movement. 

JACKMAN,  MRS.  W.  "Work  of  the  home  committee  of  the  parents' 
association,"  El.  S.  T.,  1904-1905,  p.  249.  Describes  work  of 
grade  meetings  for  mothers  in  University  of  Chicago  Elementary 
School. 

McGRADY,  LOUISA.  "The  parent  the  background  of  the  school," 
Outlook,  89 :  747.  A  general  statement  of  what  the  home  may 
contribute  to  education  of  child.  Companionship  of  child  and 
parent. 

MAXWELL,  W.  H.  "Parents'  meetings."  Report  of,  to  Board  of 
Education  of  New  York  City,  1906.  Outlines  nature  of  work 
in  that  city  and  gives  summary  of  meetings  held. 

Meetings  of  the  Parents'  Association  of  the  University  of  Chicago 
Elementary  School,  El.  S.  T.,  5 :  180,  244,  299,  529 ;  6 :  55,  167, 
361,  420.  Give  progress  of  meetings,  and  practical  work  of. 

MONROE,  PAUL.  Cyclopedia  of  Education;  article,  "Boarding  around." 
The  teacher  of  the  pioneer  community. 

PALMER,  F.  N.  "The  home:  how  it  may  help  the  teacher,"  Ed., 
21 :  292-306.  Need  of  parent  being  interested  in  pupil's  school 
activities. 

SCOTT,  COLIN.     Social  Education,  Chapter  I.     Boston,   1908. 
SHARPLESS,  ISAAC.     "The  Quaker  boy  at  school,"  Ind.,  65:543. 


64  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

TUCKER,  MILO.  "A  school  building  up  a  community/'  World's 
Work,  15 : 10153.  An  account  of  actual  work  of  one  school  in  a 
dilapidated  neighborhood.  , 

WALTON,  W.  S.  "Parent  and  schoolmaster  in  education,"  West- 
minster  Review,  April,  1911,  p.  379.  Describes  the  social  need 
and  work  of  " Parents'  Night"  in  the  George  Dixon  School,  Bir- 
mingham. 

Various  city  school  reports  give  brief  statements  of  what  is  being 
done  in  particular  localities.  See  also  the  various  reports  of  the 
National  Congress  of  Mothers  and  the  reports  of  the  same  con- 
gresses of  the  different  states. 


i 


CHAPTER  V 

THE    SCHOOL    AS    A    CENTER    OF    THE    SOCIAL    LIFE    OF    THE 
COMMUNITY 

The  School  as  a  Social  Center 

IN  this  paper  I  shall  confine  myself  to  the  philosophy  of  the  school 
as  a  social  center.  But  at  the  same  time  I  'do  not  feel  that  the  philo- 
sophical aspect  of  the  matter  is  the  urgent  or  important  one.  The 
pressing  thing,  the  significant  thing,  is  really  to  make  the  school  a 
social  center ;  that  is,  a  matter  of  practice,  not  of  theory.  Just  what 
to  do  in  order  to  make  the  schoolhouse  a  center  of  full  and  adequate 
social  service,  to  bring  it  completely  into  the  current  of  social  life,  — 
such  are  the  matters  I  am  sure  which  really  deserve  the  attention  of 
the  public  and  that  occupy  your  own  minds. 

It  is  possible,  however,  and  conceivably  useful  to  ask  ourselves: 
What  is  the  meaning  of  the  popular  demand  in  this  direction  ?  Why 
should  the  community  in  general,  and  those  particularly  interested  in 
education  in  especial,  be  so  unusually  sensitive  at  just  this  period  of 
this  need  ?  Why  should  the  lack  be  more  felt  now  than  a  generation 
ago  ?  What  forces  are  stirring  that  awaken  such  speedy  and  favorable 
response  to  the  notion  that  the  school  as  a  place  of.  instruction  for 
children  is  not  performing  its  full  function  —  that  it  needs  also  to 
operate  as  a  center  of  life  for  all  ages  and  classes  ? 

A  brief  historic  retrospect  will  f>ut  before  us  the  background  of  the 
present  situation.  The  function  of  education,  since  anything  which 
might  pass  by  that  name  was  found  among  savage  tribes,  has  been 
social.  The  particular  organ  or  structure,  however,  through  which 
this  aim  was  observed,  and  the  nature  of  its  adjustment  to  other  social 
institutions,  has  varied  according  to  the  peculiar  condition  of  the  given 
time.  The  general  principle  of  evolution,  development  from  the 
undifferentiated  toward  the  formation  of  distinct  organs  on  the  princi- 
ple of  division  of  labor,  stands  out  clearly  in  a  survey  of  educational 
history.  At  the  outset  there  was  no  school  as  a  separate  institution. 
The  educative  processes  were  carried  on  in  the  ordinary  play  of  family 
and  community  life.  As  the  ends  to  be  reached  by  education  became 
more  numerous  and  remote,  and  the  means  employed  more  special- 
ized, it  was  necessary,  however,  for  society  to  develop  a  distinct 
institution.  Only  in  this  way  could  the  special  need  be  adequately 
attended  to.  In  this  way  developed  the  schools  carried  on  by  great 
philosophical  organizations  of  antiquity  —  the  Platonic,  Stoic,  Epi- 

F  65 


66  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

curean,  etc.  —  then  came  schools  as  a  phase  of  the  work  of  the 
church.  Finally,  with  the  increasing  separation  of  church  anc 
state,  the  latter  asserted  itself  as  the  proper  founder  and  sup- 
porter of  educational  institutions;  and  the  modern  type  of  public, 
or  at  least  quasi-public,  school  developed.  There  are  many  who  re- 
gard the  transfer  of  this  educational  function  from  the  church  to  the 
state  as  more  than  a  matter  for  regret  —  they  conceive  of  it  as  a  move 
which,  if  persisted  in,  will  result  disastrously  to  the  best  and  perm; 
nent  interests  of  mankind.  But  I  take  it  we  are  not  called  upon 
day  to  reckon  with  this  class,  large  and  important  as  it  may  be. 
assume  that  practically  all  here  are  believers  in  the  principle  of  sta 
education  —  even  if  we  should  not  find  it  entirely  easy  to  justify  o 
faith  on  logical  or  philosophical  grounds.  The  reason  for  referring 
to  this  claiming  by  the  state  of  the  education  function  is  to  indicate 
that  it  was  in  continuance  of  the  policy  of  specialization  or  division 
of  labor. 

With  the  development  of  the  state  has  come  a  certain  distinction 
between  state  and  society.  As  I  use  these  terms,  I  mean  by  "  State  " 
the  organization  of  the  resources  of  community  life  through  govern- 
mental machinery  of  legislation  and  administration.  I  mean  by  "  So- 
ciety "  the  less  definite  and  freer  play  of  the  forces  of  the  community 
which  goes  on  in  the  daily  intercourse  and  contact  of  men  in  an  endless 
variety  of  ways  that  have  nothing  to  do  with  politics  or  government 
or  the  state  in  any  institutional  sense.  Now,  the  control  of  education 
by  the  state  inevitably  carried  with  it  a  certain  segregation  of  the 
machinery  of  both  school  administration  and  instruction  from  the 
freer,  more  varied  and  more  flexible  modes  of  social  intercourse. 
So  true  is  this  that  for  a  long  time  the  school  was  occupied  exclusively 
with  but  one  function,  the  purveying  of  intellectual  material  to  a 
certain  number  of  selected  minds.  Even  when  the  democratic  im- 
pulse broke  into  the  isolated  department  of  the  school,  it  did  not  effect 
A\  a  complete  reconstruction,  but  only  the  addition  of  another  element. 
This  was  preparation  for  citizenship.  The  meaning  of  this  phrase, 
"  preparation  for  citizenship/*  shows  precisely  what  I  have  in  mind  by 
the  difference  between  the  school  as  an  isolated  thing,  related  to  the 
state  alone,  and  the  school  as  a  thoroughly  socialized  affair  in  contact 
at  all  points  with  the  flow  of  community  life.  Citizenship,  to  most 
minds,  means  a  distinctly  political  thing.  It  is  defined  in  terms  of 
relation  to  the  government,  not  to  society  in  its  broader  aspects. 
To  be  able  to  vote  intelligently,  to  take  such  share  as  might  be  in  the 
conduct  of  public  legislation  and  administration,  —  that  has  been  the 
significance  of  the  term. 

Now  our  community  life  has  suddenly  awakened ;  and  in  awaken- 
ing it  has  found  that  governmental  institutions  and  affairs  represent 


THE   SCHOOL  AS  A  CENTER  OF  SOCIAL  LIFE          67 

| 

I  only  a  small  part  of  the  important  purposes  and  difficult  problems  of 
•  life;  and  that  even  that  fraction  cannot  be  dealt  with  adequately 
I  except  in  the  light  of  a  wide  range  of  domestic,  economic  and  scientific 
I  considerations  quite  excluded  from  the  conception  of  the  state,  of 
citizenship.  We  find  that  our  political  problems  involve  race  ques- 
tions, questions  of  the  assimilation  of  diverse  types  of  language  and 
rustom ;  we  find  that  most  serious  political  questions  grow  out  of  un- 
derlying industrial  and  commercial  changes  and  adjustments;  we 
find  that  most  of  our  pressing  political  problems  cannot  be  solved  by 
special  measures  of  legislation  or  executive  activity,  but  'only  by  the 
promotion  of  common  sympathies  and  a  common  understanding. 
We  find,  moreover,  that  the  solution  of  the  difficulties  must  go  back 
to  a  more  adequate  scientific  comprehension  of  the  actual  facts  and 
relations  involved.  The  isolation  between  state  and  society,  between 
the  government  and  the  institutions  of  family,  business  life,  etc., 
is  breaking  down.  We  realize  the  thin  artificial  character  of  the 
separation.  We  begin  to  see  that  we  are  dealing  with  the  complicated 
interaction  of  varied  and  vital  forces,  only  a  few  of  which  can  be 
pigeonholed  as  governmental.  The  content  of  the  term  "  citizenship  " 
is  broadening ;  it  is  coming  to  mean  all  the  relationships  of  all  sorts 
that  are  involved  in  membership  in  a  community. 

This  of  itself  would  tend  to  develop  a  sense  of  something  absent  in 
the  existing  type  of  education,  something  detective  in  the  service 
rendered  by  the  school.  Change  the  image  of  what  constitutes 
citizenship,  and  you  change  the  image  of  what  is  the  purpose  of  the 
school.  Change  this,  and  you  change  the  picture  of  what  the  school 
should  be  doing  and  of  how  it  should  be  doing  it.  The  feeling  that 
the  school  is  not  doing  all  that  it  should  do  in  simply  giving  instruction 
during  the  day  to  a  certain  number  of  children  of  different  ages,  the 
demand  that  it  shall  assume  a  wider  scope  of  activities  having  an 
educative  effect  upon  the  adult  members  of  the  community,  had  its_ 
basis  just  here :  We  are  feeling  everywhere  the  organic  unity  of  the 
different  modes  of  social  life,  and  consequently  demand  that  the 
school  shall  be  related  more  widely,  shall  receive  from  more  quarters, 
and  shall  give  in  more  directions. 

As  I  have  already  intimated,  the  older  idea  of  the  school  was  that 
its  primary  concern  was  with  the  inculcation  of  certain  facts  and 
truths  from  the  intellectual  point  of  view,  and  the  acquisition  of  cer- 
tain forms  of  skill.  When  the  school  became  public  or  common, 
this  notion  was  broadened  to  include  whatever  would  make  the 
citizen  a  more  capable  and  righteous  voter  and  legislator ;  but  it  was 
still  thought  that  this  end  would  be  reached  along  the  line  of  in- 
tellectual instruction.  To  teach  children  the  Constitution  of  the 
United  States,  the  nature  and  working  of  various  parts  of  gov- 


68  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF   EDUCATION 

t 

ernmental  machinery,  from  the  nation  through  the  state  and  county 
down  to  the  township  and  the  school  district,  to  teach  such  things 
was  thought  to  prepare  the  pupil  for  citizenship.  And  so  some 
fifteen  or  twenty  years  ago,  when  the  feeling  arose  that  the  schools 
were  not  doing  all  that  they  should  be  doing  for  our  life  as  a  whole, 
this  consciousness  expressed  itself  in  a  demand  for  a  more  thorough 
and  extensive  teaching  of  civics.  To  my  mind  the  demand  for  the 
school  as  a  social  center  bears  the  same  ratio  to  the  situation  which 
confronts  us  to-day,  as  the  movement  for  civics  bore  to  the  conditions 
of  half  a  generation  ago.  We  have  awakened  to  deeper  aspects  of 
the  question  ;,/we  have  seen  that  the  machinery  of  governmental  life 
is  after  all  but  a  machinery,  and  depends  for  its  Tightness  and  effi- 
ciency upon  underlying  social  and  industrial  causes.  We  have  lost 
a  good  deal  of  our  faith  in  the  efficacy  of  purely  intellectual  instruction. 

Some  four  specific  developments  may  be  mentioned  as  having  a 
bearing  upon  the  question  of  the  school  as  a  social  center.  The  first 
of  these  is  the  much  increased  efficiency  and  ease  of  all  the  agencies 
that  have  to  do  with  bringing  people  into  contact  with  one  another. 
Recent  inventions  have  so  multiplied  and  cheapened  the  means  of 
transportation,  and  the  circulation  of  ideas  and  news  through  books, 
magazines  and  papers,  that  it  is  no  longer  physically  possible  for  one 
nationality,  race,  class  or  sect  to  be  kept  apart  from  others,  impei 
vious  to  their  wishes*  and  beliefs.  Cheap  and  rapid  long-distanc 
transportation  has  made  America  a  meeting  place  for  all  the  people 
and  tongues  of  the  world.  \  The  centralization  of  industry  has  force 
members  of  classes  into  the  closest  association  with,  and  dependence 
upon,  each  other.  Bigotry,  intolerance,  or  even  an  unswerving 
faith  in  the  superiority  of  one's  own  religious  and  political  creed  are 
much  shaken  when  individuals  are  brought  face  to  face  with  each  other, 
or  have  the  ideas  of  others  continuously  and  forcibly  placed  before 
them.  The  congestion  of  our  city  life  is  only  one  aspect  of  the  bring- 
ing of  people  together  which  modern  inventions  have  induced. 

That  many  dangers  result  from  sudden  dislocations  of  people  from 
the  surroundings  —  physical,  industrial  and  intellectual  —  to  which 
they  have  become  adapted;  that  great  instability  may  accompany 
this  sudden  massing  of  heterogeneous  peoples,  goes  without  saying. 
On  the  other  hand,  these  very  agencies  present  instrumentalities  of 
which  advantage  may  be  taken.  The  best  as  well  as  the  worst  of 
modern  newspapers  is  a  product.  The  organized  public  library  with 
its  facilities  for  reaching  all  classes  of  people  is  an  effect.  The  popular 
assembly  and  lyceum  is  another.  No  educational  system  can  be 
regarded  as  complete  until  it  adapts  itself  into  the  various  ways  in 
which  social  and  intellectual  intercourse  may  be  promoted ;  and  em- 
ploys them  systematically,  not  only  to  counteract  dangers  which  these 


THE   SCHOOL  AS  A  CENTER  OF  SOCIAL  LIFE          69 

same  agencies  are  bringing  with  them,  but  so  as  to  make  them  posi- 
tive causes  in  raising  the  whole  level  of  life. 

Both  the  demand  and  the  opportunity  are  increased  in  our  large 
cities  by  the  commingling  of  classes  and  races.  It  is  said  that  one 
ward  in  the  city  of  Chicago  has  forty  different  languages  represented 
in  it.  It  is  a  well-known  fact  that  some  of  the  largest  Irish,  German 
and  Bohemian  cities  in  the  world  are  located  in  America,  not  in  their 
own  countries.  The  power  of  the  public  schools  to  assimilate  different 
races  to  our  institutions,  through  the  education  given  to  the  younger 
generation,  is  doubtless  one  of  the  most  remarkable  exhibitions  of 
vitality  that  the  world  has  ever  seen.  But,  after  all,  it  leaves  the  older 
generation  still  untouched ;  and  the  assimilation  of  the  younger  can 
hardly  be  complete  or  certain  as  long  as  the  homes  of  the  parents 
remain  comparatively  unaffected.  Indeed,  wise  observers  in  both^ 
New  York  City  and  Chicago  have  recently  sounded  a  note  of  alarm. 
They  have  called  attention  to  the  fact  that  in  some  respects  the 
children  are  too  rapidly,  I  will  not  say  Americanized,  but  too 
rapidly  de-nationalized.  They  lose  the  positive  and  conservative 
value  of  their  own  native  traditions,  their  own  native  music,  art 
and  literature.  They  do  not  get  complete  initiation  into  the  cus- 
toms of  their  new  country,  and  so  are  frequently  left  floating  and 
unstable  between  the  two.  They  even  learn  to  despise  the  dress, 
bearing,  habits,  language  and  beliefs  of  their  parents  —  many  of 
which  have  more  substance  and  worth  than  the  superficial  putting 
on  of  the  newly  adopted  habits.  If  I  understand  aright,  one  of  the 
chief  motives  in  the  development  of  the  new  labor  museum  at  Hull 
House  has  been  to  show  the  younger  generation  something  of  the 
skill  and  art  and  historic  meaning  in  the  industrial  habits  of  the 
older  generations  —  modes  of  spinning,  weaving,  metal  working, 
etc.,  discarded  in  this  country  because  there  was  no  place  for  them  in 
our  industrial  system.  Many  a  child  has  awakened  to  an  apprecia- 
tion of  admirable  qualities  hitherto  unknown  in  his  father  or  mother 
for  whom  he  had  begun  to  entertain  a  contempt.  Many  an  asso- 
ciation of  local  history  and  past  national  glory  had  been  awakened 
to  quicken  and  enrich  the  life  of  the  family. 

^  In  the  second  place,  along  with  the  increasing  intercourse  and  inter- 
action, with  all  its  dangers  and  opportunities,  there  has  come  a  re- 
laxation of  the  bonds  of  social  discipline  and  control.  I  suppose  none 
of  us  would  be  willing  to  believe  that  the  movement  away  from  dog- 
matism and  fixed  authority  was  anything  but  a  movement  in  the 
right  direction.  But  no  one  can  view  the  loosening  of  the  power  of 
the  older  religious  and  social  authorities,  without  deep  concern. 
We  may  feel  sure  that  in  time  independent  judgment,  with  the  in- 
dividual freedom  and  responsibility  that  go  with  it,  will  more  than 


70  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

make  good  the  temporary  losses.  But  meantime  there  is  a  temporary 
loss.  Parental  authority  has  much  less  influence  in  controlling  the 
conduct  of  children.  Reverence  seems  to  decay  on  every  side,  and 
boisterousness  and  hoodlumism  to  increase.  Flippancy  toward  paren- 
tal and  other  forms  of  constituted  authority  waxes,  while  obedient 
orderliness  wanes.  The  domestic  ties  themselves,  as  between  hus- 
band and  wife  as  well  as  in  relation  to  children,  lose  something  of  their 
permanence  and  sanctity.  The  church,  with  its  supernatural  sanctions, 
its  means  of  shaping  the  daily  life  of  its  adherents,  finds  its  grasp  slowly 
slipping  away  from  it.  t^We  might  as  well  frankly  recognize  that  many 
of  the  old  agencies  for  moralizing  mankind,  and  of  keeping  them  liv- 
ing decent,  respectable  and  orderly  lives,  are  losing  in  efficiency  —  par- 
ticularly, those  agencies  which  rested  for  their  force  upon  custom, 
tradition,  and  unquestioning  acceptance.  It  is  impossible  for  society 
to  remain  purely  a  passive  spectator  in  the  midst  of  such  a  scene. 
It  must  search  for  other  agencies  with  which  it  may  repair  the  loss, 
and  which  may  produce  the  results  which  the  former  methods  are 
failing  to  secure.  Here,  too,  it  is  not  enough  for  society  to  confine 
its  work  to  children.  However  much  they  may  need  the  discipli- 
nary training  of  a  widened  and  enlightened  education,  the  older  genera- 
tion needs  it  also.  Besides,  time  is  short  —  very  short  for  the  aver- 
age child  in  the  average  city  school.  The  work  is  hardly  more  than 
begun  there,  and  unless  it  is  largely  to  go  for  naught,  the  community 
must  find  methods  of  supplementing  it  and  carrying  it  further  outside 
the  regular  school  channels. 

In  the  third  place,  the  intellectual  life,  facts  and  truths  of  knowl- 
edge are  much  more  obviously  and  intimately  connected  with  all  other 
affairs  of  life  than  they  ever  have  been  at  any  previous  .period  in  the 
history  of  the  world.  Hence  a  purely  and  exclusively  intellectual 
instruction  means  less  than  it  ever  meant  before.  And,  again,  the 
daily  occupations  and  ordinary  surroundings  of  life  are  much  more 
in  need  of  interpretation  than  ever  they  have  been  before.  We  might 
almost  say  that  once  there  was  a  time  when  learning  related  almost 
wholly  to  a  world  outside  and  beyond  that  of  the  daily  concerns  of 
life  itself.  To  study  physics,  to  learn  German,  to  become  acquainted 
with  Chinese  history,  were  elegant  accomplishments,  but  more  or 
less  useless  from  the  standpoint  of  daily  life.  In  fact,  it  is  just  this 
sort  of  idea  which  the  term  "  culture"  still  conveys  to  many  minds. 
When  learning  was  useful,  it  was  only  to  a  comparatively  small  and  par- 
ticularly select  class  in  the  community.  It  was  just  something  that 
the  doctor  or  lawyer  or  clergyman  needed  in  his  particular  calling, 
but  so  far  away  from  and  above  the  mass  of  mankind  that  it  could 
only  awaken  their  blind  and  submissive  admiration.  The  recent 
public  lament  regarding  the  degradation  of  the  teacher's  calling  is, 


THE   SCHOOL  AS  A   CENTER  OF  SOCIAL  LIFE          71 

to  my  mind,  just  a  reminiscence  of  the  time  when  to  know  enough 
to  be  a  teacher  was  something  which  of  itself  set  off  the  individual  in 
a  special  class  by  himself.  It  fails  to  take  account  of  the  changes 
which  have  put  knowledge  in  common  circulation,  and  made  it  possible 
:or  every  one  to  be  a  teacher  in  some  respect  unto  his  neighbor. 

Under  modern  conditions,  practically  every  sphere  of  learning, 
whether  of  social  or  natural  science,  may  impinge  at  once,  and  at  any 
point,  upon  the  conduct  of  life.  German  is  not  a  fact,  knowledge  of 
which  makes  a  distinction  between  a  man  and  his  fellow,  but  a 
mode  of  social  and  business  intercourse.  Physics  is  no  longer  natural 
Dhilosophy  —  something  concerned  with  remarkable  discoveries  about 
important  but  very  remote  laws ;  it  is  a  set  of  facts  which,  through 
the  applications  of  heat  and  electricity  to  our  ordinary  surroundings, 
constantly  come  home  to  us.  Physiology,  bacteriology,  anatomy, 
concern  our  individual  health  and  the  sanitation  of  our  cities.  Their 
facts  are  exploited  in  sensational,  if  not  scientific,  ways  in  the  daily 
newspapers.  And  so  we  might  go  through  the  whole  schedule  of 
studies,  once  so  foreign  and  alien,  and  show  how  intimately  concerned 
they  now  are  with  commonplace  life.  The  simple  fact  is,  that  we  are 
living  in  an  age  of  applied  science.  It  is  impossible  to  escape  the  in- 
luence,  direct  and  indirect,  of  the  applications. 

On  the  other  hand,  life  is  getting  so  specialized,  the  divisions  of  labor 
are  carried  so  far,  that  nothing  explains  or  interprets  itself.  The  worker 
in  a  modern  factory  who  is  concerned  with  a  fractional  piece  of  a 
complex  activity,  present  to  him  only  in  a  limited  series  of  acts  carried 
on  with  a  distinct  portion  of  a  machine,  is  typical  of  much  in  our  entire 
social  life.  The  old  worker  knew  something  of  his  process  and  busi- 
ness as  a  whole.  If  he  did  not  come  into  personal  contact  with  all 
of  it,  the  whole  was  so  small  and  so  close  to  him  that  he  was  acquainted 
with  it.  He  was  thus  aware  of  the  meaning  of  the  particular  part 
of  the  work  which  he  himself  was  doing.  He  saw  and  felt  it  as  a 
vital  part  of  the  whole,  and  his  horizon  was  extended.  The  situation 
is  now  opposite.  Most  people  are  doing  particular  things  of  whose 
exact  reasons  and  relationships  they  are  only  dimly  aware.  The  whole 
is  so  vast,  so  complicated,  so  technical,  that  it  is  next  to  out  of  the 
question  to  get  any  direct  acquaintanceship  with  it.  Hence  we  must 
rely  upon  instruction ;  upon  interpretations  that  come  to  us  through 
conscious  channels.  One  of  the  great  motives  for  the  flourishing  of 
some  great  technical  correspondence  schools  of  the  present  day  is 
not  only  the  utilitarian  desire  to  profit  by  preparation  for  better  posi- 
tions, but  an  honest  eagerness  to  know  something  more  of  the  great 
Forces  which  condition  the  particular  work  one  is  doing,  and  to  get  an 
insight  into  those  broad  relations  which  are  so  partially,  yet  tantaliz- 
ingly,  hinted  at.  The  same  is  true  of  the  growing  interest  in  forms 


72  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

of  popular  science,  which  forms  a  marked  portion  of  the  stock  in 
trade  of  some  of  the  best  and  most  successful  of  our  modern  monthly 
magazines.  This  same  motive  added  much  to  the  effectiveness  of  the 
university  extension  movement,  particularly  in  England.  It  creates 
a  particular  demand  for  a  certain  type  of  popular  illustrated  lecture. 
Unless  the  lives  of  a  large  part  of  our  wage  earners  are  to  be  left 
to  their  own  barren  meagerness,  the  community  must  see  to  it  by 
some  organized  agency  that  they  are  instructed  in  the  scientific 
foundation  and  social  bearings  of  the  things  they  see  about  them,  and 
of  the  activities  in  which  they  are  themselves  engaging. 
•f  The  fourth  point  of  demand  and  opportunity  is  the  prolongation, 
under  modern  conditions,  of  continuous  instruction.  We  have 
heard  much  of  the  significance  of  prolonged  infancy  in  relation  to 
education.  It  has  become  almost  a  part  of  our  pedagogical  creed 
that  premature  engagement  in  the  serious  vocations  of  life  is  detri- 
mental to  full  growth.  There  is  a  corollary  to  this  proposition  which 
has  not  yet  received  equal  recognition.  Only  where  social  occupa- 
tions are  well  defined,  and  of  a  pretty  permanent  type,  can  the  period 
of  instruction  be  cut  short  at  any  particular  period.  It  is  commonly 
recognized  that  a  doctor  or  a  lawyer  must  go  on  studying  all  his  life, 
if  he  is  to  be  a  successful  man  in  his  profession.  The  reason  is  ob- 
vious enough.  Conditions  about  him  are  highly  unstable ;  new  prob- 
lems present  themselves;  new  facts  obtrude.  Previous  study  of 
law,  no  matter  how  thorough  and  accurate  the  study,  did  not 
provide  for  these  new  situations.  Hence  the  need  of  continual 
study.  There  are  still  portions  of  country  where  the  lawyer 
practically  prepares  himself  before  he  enters  upon  his  professional 
career.  All  he  has  to  do  afterward  is  to  perfect  himself  in  certain 
finer  points,  and  get  skill  in  the  manipulation  of  what  he  already 
knows.  But  these  are  the  more  backward  and  unprogressive  sec- 
tions, where  change  is  gradual  and  infrequent,  and  so  the  individual 
prepared  once  is  prepared  always. 

Now,  what  is  true  of  the  lawyer  and  the  doctor  in  the  more  pro- 
gressive sections  of  the  country,  is  true  to  a  certain  extent  of  all  sorts 
and  degrees  of  people.  Social,  economic  and  intellectual  conditions 
are  changing  at  a  rate  undreamed  of  in  past  history.  Now,  unless 
the  agencies  of  instruction  are  kept  running  more  or  less  parallel 
with  these  changes,  a  considerable  body  of  men  is  bound  to  find  it- 
self without  the  training  which  will  enable  it  to  adapt  itself  to  what 
is  going  on.  It  will  be  left  stranded  and  become  a  burden  for  the 
community  to  carry.  Where  progress  is  continuous  and  certain, 
education  must  be  equally  certain  and  continuous.  The  youth  at 
eighteen  may  be  educated  so  as  to  be  ready  for  the  conditions  which 
will  meet  him  at  nineteen ;  but  he  can  hardly  be  prepared  for  those 


THE  SCHOOL  AS  A   CENTER  OF  SOCIAL  LIFE          73 

which  are  to  confront  him  when  he  is  forty-five.  If  he  is  ready  for  the 
latter  when  they  come,  it  will  be  because  his  own  education  has  been 
keeping  pace  in  the  intermediate  years.  Doubtless  conversation, 
social  intercourse,  observation  and  reflection  upon  what  one  sees 
going  on  about  one,  the  reading  of  magazines  and  books,  will  do  much ; 
they  are  important,  even  if  unorganized,  methods  of  continuous  edu- 
cation. But  they  can  hardly  be  expected  to  do  all,  and  hence  they 
do  not  relieve  the  community  from  the  responsibility  of  providing, 
through  the  school  as  a  center,  a  continuous  education  for  all  classes 
of  whatever  age. 

The  fourfold  need,  and  the  fourfold  opportunity,  which  I  have 
hastily  sketched,  defines  to  some  extent  the  work  of  the  school  as  a 
social  center.  V 

It  must  provide,  at  least,  part  of  that  training  which  is  necessary 
to  keep  the  individual  properly  adjusted  to  a  rapidly  changing  en- 
vironment. It  must  interpret  to  him  the  intellectual  and  social 
meaning  of  the  work  in  which  he  is  engaged ;  that  is,  must  reveal  its 
relations  to  the  life  and  work  of  the  world.  It  must  make  up  to  him 
in  part  for  the  decay  of  dogmatic  and  fixed  methods  of  social  disci- 
pline. It  must  supply  him  compensation  for  the  loss  of  reverence 
and  influence  of  authority.  And,  finally,  it  must  provide  means  for 
bringing  people  and  their  ideas  and  beliefs  together,  in  such  ways  as 
will  lessen  friction  and  instability  and  introduce  deeper  sympathy  and 
wider  understanding. 

In  what  ways  shall  the  school  as  a  social  center  perform  these  vari- 
ous tasks?  To  answer  this  question  in  anything  like  detail  is  to  pass 
from  my  allotted  sphere  of  philosophy  into  that  of  practical  execu- 
tion. But  it  comes  within  the  scope  of  a  theoretical  consideration 
to  indicate  certain  general  lines.  First,  there  is  mixing  people  up  with 
each  other;  bringing  them  together  under  wholesome  influences, 
and  under  conditions  which  will  promote  their  getting  acquainted 
with  the  best  side  of  each  other.  I  suppose  whenever  we  are  framing 
our  ideals  of  the  school  as  a  social  center,  what  we  think  of  is  particu- 
larly the  better  class  of  social  settlements.  What  we  want  is  to  see 
the  school,  every  public  school,  doing  something  of  the  same  sort  of 
work  that  is  now  done  by  a  settlement  or  two  scattered  at  wide  dis- 
tances through  the  city.  And  we  all  know  that  the  work  of  such  an 
institution  as  Hull  House  has  been  primarily,  not  that  of  conveying 
intellectual  instruction,  but  of  being  a  social  clearing  house.  It  is 
a  place  where  ideas  and  beliefs  may  be  exchanged,  not  merely  in 
the  arena  of  formal  discussion,  —  for  argument  alone  breeds  mis- 
understanding and  fixes  prejudice,  —  but  in  ways  where  ideas  are  in- 
carnated in  human  form  and  clothed  with  the  winning  grace  of  personal 
life.  Classes  for  study  may  be  numerous,  but  all  are  regarded  as  modes 


74  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

of  bringing  people  together,  of  doing  away  with  barriers  of  caste,  or 
class,  or  race,  or  type  of  experience  that  keep  people  from  real  com- 
munion with  each  other. 

The  function  of  the  school  as  a  social  center  in  promoting  social 
meetings  for  social  purposes,  suggests  at  once  another  function - 
provision  and  direction  of  reasonable  forms  of  amusement  and  rec- 
reation. The  social  club,  the  gymnasium,  the  amateur  theatrical 
representation,  the  concert,  the  stereopticon  lecture,  —  these  are  agen- 
cies the  force  of  which  social  settlements  have  long  known,  and  which 
are  coming  into  use  wherever  anything  is  doing  in  the  way  of  making 
schools  social  centers.  I  sometimes  think  that  recreation  is  the  most 
overlooked  and  neglected  of  all  ethical  forces.  Our  whole  Puritan 
tradition  tends  to  make  us  slight  this  side  of  life,  or  even  condemn 
it.  But  the  demand  for  recreation,  for  enjoyment,  is  one  of  the 
strongest  and  most  fundamental  things  in  human  nature.  To  pass 
it  over  is  to  invite  it  to  find  its  expression  in  defective  and  perverted 
form.  The  brothel,  the  saloons,  the  low  dance  house,  the  gambling 
den,  the  trivial,  inconsiderate  and  demoralizing  associations  which 
form  themselves  on  every  street  corner,  are  the  answer  of  human 
nature  to  the  neglect,  on  the  part  of  supposed  moral  leaders,  of  this 
factor  in  human  nature.  I  believe  that  there  is  no  force  more  likely 
to  count  in  the  general  reform  of  social  conditions  than  the  practical 
recognition  that  in  recreation  there  is  a  positive  moral  influence  which 
it  is  the  duty  of  the  community  to  take  hold  of  and  direct.  • 

In  the  third  place,  there  ought  to  be  some  provision  for  a  sort  of 
continuous  social  selection  of  a  somewhat  specialized  type  —  using 
"  specialized,"  of  course,  in  a  relative  sense.  Our  cities  carried  on 
evening  schools  long  before  anything  was  said  or  heard  of  the  school 
as  a  social  center.  These  were  intended  to  give  instruction  in  the 
rudiments  to  those  who  had  little  or  no  early  opportunities.  So 
far  they  were  and  are  good.  But  what  I  have  in  mind  is  something 
of  a  more  distinctly  advanced  and  selective  nature.  To  refer  once 
more  to  the  working  model  upon  which  I  am  pretty  continuously 
drawing,  in  the  activities  of  Hull  House  we  find  provision  made  for 
classes  in  music,  drawing,  clay  modeling,  joinery,  metal  working, 
and  so  on.  There  is  no  reason  why  something  in  the  way  of  scientific 
laboratories  should  not  be  provided  for  those  who  are  particularly 
interested  in  problems  of  mechanics  or  electricity;  and  so  the  list 
might  be  continued.  Now  the  obvious  operation  of  such  modes  of 
instruction  is  to  pick  out  and  attract  to  itself  those  individuals 
who  have  particular  ability  in  any  particular  line.  There  is  a 
vast  amount  of  unutilized  talent  dormant  all  about  us.  Many 
an  individual  has  capacity  within  himself  of  which  he  is  only  dimly 
conscious,  because  he  has  never  had  an  opportunity  for  expressing  it. 


THE  SCHOOL  AS  A  CENTER  OF  SOCIAL  LIFE          75 

He  is  not  only  losing  the  satisfaction  of  employment,  but  society 
suffers  from  this  wasted  capital.  The  evils  of  unearned  increment 
are  as  nothing  beside  those  of  the  undiscovered  resource.  In  time, 
I  am  confident  the  community  will  recognize  it  as  a  natural  and 
necessary  part  of  its  own  duty  —  quite  as  much  as  is  now  giving  in- 
struction to  little  children  —  to  provide  such  opportunities  for  adults 
as  will  enable  them  to  discover  and  carry  to  some  point  of  fulfill- 
ment the  particular  capacities  that  distinguish  them. 

In  conclusion,  we  may  say  that  the  conception  of  the  school  as  a 
social  center  is  born  of  our  entire  democratic  movement.  Every- 
where we  see  signs  of  the  growing  recognition  that  the  community 
owes  to  each  one  of  its  members  the  fullest  opportunity  for  develop- 
ment. Everywhere  we  see  the  growing  recognition  that  the  commu- 
nity life  is  defective  and  distorted,  excepting  as  it  does  thus  care  for 
all  its  constituent  parts.  This  is  no  longer  viewed  as  a  matter  of 
charity,  but  as  a  matter  of  justice  —  even  of  something  higher 
and  better  than  justice  —  a  necessary  phase  of  developing  and  grow- 
ing life.  Men  will  long  dispute  about  material  socialism,  about 
socialism  considered  as  a  matter  of  distribution  of  the  material  re- 
sources of  the  community ;  but  there  is  a  socialism  regarding  which 
there  can  be  no  such  dispute  —  socialism  of  the  intelligence  and  of 
the  spirit.  To  extend  the  range  and  the  fullness  of  sharing  in  the 
intellectual  and  spiritual  resources  of  the  community  is  the  very 
meaning  of  the  community.  Because  the  older  type  of  education  is 
not  fully  adequate  to  this  task  under  changed  conditions,  we  feel  its 
lack,  and  demand  that  the  school  shall  become  a  social  center.  The 
school  as  a  social  center  means  the  active  and  organized  promotion  of 
this  socialism  of  the  intangible  things  of  art,  science  and  other  modes 
of  social  intercourse. 

John  Dewey,  reprinted  from  the  Report  of  the  National  Educational  Association,  1902, 
p.  373.    Courtesy  of  the  author. 

Rochester  Social  Centers  and  Civic  Clubs 

Plan  of  the  Work 

The  Social  Center  movement,  being  in  its  nature  absolutely  demo- 
cratic, has  been  free  to  develop  in  actual  realization  whatever  phases 
the  needs,  desires  and  good  sense  of  the  community  might  choose. 
And  some  of  its  greatest  features,  such,  for  instance,  as  the  independent 
Civic  Club  development,  have  been  quite  spontaneous  and  not  at  all 
prearranged.  Yet  in  the  great  essentials  of  plan  and  policy  there 
has  been  no  change  from  the  beginning. 

On  July  5,  1907,  a  joint  meeting  of  the  Board  of  Education  and 
the  School  Extension  Committee  was  held.  At  this  meeting  the  whole 


76  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

matter  of  the  policy  of  the  Social  Centers  was  thoroughly  discussed, 
and  the  plans  of  the  work  were  definitely  laid.  In  that  meeting  it 
was  decided  that  the  spirit  which  should  be  striven  for  in  the  Social 
Centers  should  be  the  democratic,  friendly  spirit  of  broad  acquaint- 
anceship, which  made  "  The  Little  Red  Schoolhouse  "  in  the  coun- 
try the  fine  community  gathering  place  that  it  was.  About  this  time 
there  appeared  in  one  of  the  magazines  an  article  upon  the  evening 
uses  of  the  schoolhouse  in  a  village  community.  In  that  article  the 
kindly  neighborhood  spirit  which  was  developed  in  these  schoolhouse 
meetings,  social  and  political,  was  described.  In  connection  with 
this  description  the  author  asserted  that  there  is  no  such  spirit  of 
community  interest,  no  such  neighborly  feeling,  no  such  democracy 
as  the  village  had,  in  any  American  city,  and  that  there  never  can  be 
such  a  spirit  of  community  interest,  such  a  neighborly  spirit,  and 
such  democracy,  until  some  institution  is  developed  in  the  midst  of 
our  complex  city  life  in  which  people  of  all  races,  classes  and  parties 
shall  find  a  common  gathering  place,  a  common  means  of  acquaint- 
ance, an  opportunity  to  learn  to  think  in  terms  of  the  city  as  a  whole  — 
until  there  is  developed  an  institution  which  shall  serve  the  people  in 
the  city  as  the  Little  Red  Schoolhouse  served  the  folks  back  home.  .  .  . 

The  Social  Center  was  not  to  take  the  place  of  any  existing  institu- 
tion; it  was  not  to  be  a  charitable  medium  for  the  service  particularly 
of  the  poor ;  it  was  not  to  be  a  new  kind  of  evening  school ;  it  was 
not  to  take  the  place  of  any  church  or  other  institution  of  moral  up- 
lift ;  it  was  not  to  serve  simply  as  an  " Improvement  Association"  by 
which  the  people  in  one  community  should  seek  only  the  welfare  of 
their  district ;  it  was  not  to  be  a  "  Civic  Reform  "  organization, 
pledged  to  some  change  in  city  or  state  or  national  administration ; 
it  was  just  to  be  the  restoration  of  its  true  place  in  social  life  of  that 
most  American  of  all  institutions,  the  Public  School  Center,  in  order 
that  through  this  extended  use  of  the  school  building  might  be  de- 
veloped, in  the  midst  of  our  complex  life,  the  community  interest, 
the  neighborly  spirit,  the  democracy  that  we  knew  before  we  came 
to  the  city. 

It  was  decided  at  that  meeting  that  the  Social  Center  should  pro- 
vide opportunities  for  physical  activity  by  means  of  gymnasium 
equipment  and  direction,  baths,  etc. ;  opportunities  for  recreation, 
in  addition  to  those  which  the  gymnasium  would  offer,  by  the  pro- 
vision of  various  innocent  table  games ;  opportunities  for  intellectual 
activity  by  the  provision  of  a  library  and  reading  room  and  by  the 
giving  of  a  lecture  or  entertainment  at  least  once  a  week,  while  the 
essentially  democratic,  intimately  social  service  of  the  Centers  should 
be  gained  through  the  opportunities  offered  for  the  organization  of 
self-governing  clubs  of  men,  of  women,  of  boys  and  girls. 


THE   SCHOOL  AS  A  CENTER  OF  SOCIAL  LIFE          77 

The  use  of  the  Social  Centers  for  free,  untrammeled  discussion  of 
public  questions  was  carefully  considered,  and  the  fact  was  cited  that 
the  School  Extension  Committee  had  already  gone  over  this  matter 
and  had  passed  a  motion  that  "  The  committee  should  insist  upon  the 
free  use  of  the  school  buildings  chosen,  for  neighborhood  meetings, 
even  politics  and  religion  not  being  tabooed."  And  this  was  decided 
as  the  rule  that  should  maintain,  because  such  freedom  was,  of  course, 
essential  to  the  development  of  an  institution  which  shall  serve  the 
people  in  the  city  as  the  Little  Red  Schoolhouse  served  the  folks 
back  home. 

The  School  Extension  Committee  had  planned  that  the  work  should 
be  carried  on  in  several  school  buildings  during  the  first  year.  When, 
however,  it  was  decided  that  the  money  appropriated  for  this  work 
should  cover  the  expense  of  Playgrounds,  Vacation  Schools  and 
Grammar  School  Athletics  and  that  only  a  part  of  it  should  be  de- 
voted to  Social  Centers,  it  was  seen  that  it  would  be  impossible  to 
completely  equip  more  than  one  building,  and  the  question  was  up  for 
decision  as  to  whether  the  plan  should  be  tried  out  in  one  Center 
completely  equipped  and  open  every  night  in  the  week,  or  whether 
the  work  should  be  partially  begun  in  several  school  buildings. 
After  considering  the  various  phases  of  the  question,  it  was  decided, 
in  the  meeting  of  July  5,  to  concentrate  in  one  building,  and  at  the 
same  time  to  make  tentative  beginnings  of  club  work,  without  special 
equipment,  perhaps  one  night  each  week  in  a  couple  of  other  buildings. 

To  prevent  the  Social  Center  being  regarded  at  its  beginning  as 
either  a  "  kid  glove  "  or  a  charitable  institution,  or  anything  less 
than  a  return  to  the  country  schoolhouse  idea  of  a  common  gathering 
place  for  all  sorts  of  people,  it  was  decided  that  the  first  building  to 
be  chosen  should  be  in  as  representative  a  district  as  possible,  one  in 
which  neither  the  wealthy  nor  the  poverty-stricken  predominated, 
one  in  which  there  were  both  native-  and  foreign-born  Americans, 
one  in  which  the  wide  diversity  of  city  life  was  well  illustrated.  With 
this  idea  in  mind,  No.  14  School  Building  was  selected.  Perhaps 
more  than  any  other  school  building  in  Rochester,  this  one  is  located, 
geographically  and  socially,  in  midground  of  city  life.  It  stands 
about  halfway  between  East  Avenue  and  Davis  Street.  There  are 
in  its  neighborhood  many  of  the  early  residents  of  Rochester,  and 
there  are  also  many  newly  arrived  citizens  from  foreign  shores ;  many 
races,  most  of  the  religious,  political  and  social  groups  in  the  city, 
are  here  represented.  To  quote  from  the  first  published  statement 
regarding  the  Social  Centers  printed  in  the  bulletin  issued  Novem- 
ber 7,  1907,  "  The  first  Social  Center  is  established  here  in  a  repre- 
sentative district,  neither  overrich  nor  poor,  but  where  people  live 
who  are  self-respecting  and  capable,  comfortably  well-to-do,  the  kind 


78  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

of  people  who  make  the  real  strength  and  brain  of  our  American 
life.7' 

The  parts  of  the  building  which  it  was  decided  should  be  used  for 
the  Social  Center  were  the  assembly  hall  on  the  third  floor,  which  was 
to  serve  five  nights  each  week  as  a  gymnasium  and  one  night  for  an 
auditorium ;  the  kindergarten  room  on  the  ground  floor,  which  was 
to  be  used  as  a  reading  and  quiet  game  room ;  and  the  art  and  physics 
rooms  of  the  Normal  School,  which  were  to  serve  for  club  meetings. 
The  first  step  in  the  equipping  of  the  building  was  the  installation  of 
iron  gates  shutting  off  the  parts  of  the  building  which  were  not  to  be 
used  for  the  Social  Center.  The  next  was  the  equipping  of  the  gym- 
nasium. One  side  of  the  assembly  hall  was  to  be  used  for  a  basket- 
ball court ;  on  the  other  side  a  horizontal  bar,  parallel  bars,  horse, 
ladder,  flying  and  traveling  rings,  climbing  ropes  and  poles,  and  mats 
for  tumbling  and  wrestling  were  installed.  In  addition  to  this  equip- 
ment, dumb-bells,  Indian  clubs,  wands  and  boxing  gloves,  were  pro- 
cured. It  would  have  been  most  desirable  to  have  installed  shower 
baths  in  connection  with  the  gymnasium  and  on  the  same  floor.  As 
it  was  impossible  to  do  this,  they  were  installed  in  a  room  on  the 
ground  floor  in  connection  with  the  cloakroom  of  the  kindergarten, 
which  was  to  be  used  as  a  dressing  room.  This  completed  the  equip- 
ment for  physical  exercise.  For  the  recreational  activities,  outside 
of  the  gymnasium,  sixty  chairs,  a  dozen  tables  and  a  dozen  table  games, 
such  as  chess  and  checkers,  were  procured.  For  the  intellectual 
activities  of  the  Center,  a  stereopticon  lantern  was  secured  to  be  used 
in  connection  with  lectures,  a  library  of  five  hundred  volumes  was 
borrowed  from  Albany,  and  subscriptions  were  taken  for  a  dozen 
periodicals.  For  the  social  activities  a  set  of  cheap  dishes  was  pro- 
cured which  could  be  used  by  the  various  clubs  in  the  Social  Center 
in  serving  refreshments,  which  these  clubs  might  provide. 

In  some  respects,  No.  14  School  Building  was  well  fitted  for  use  as 
a  Social  Center.  Its  large  kindergarten  room  and  its  two  classrooms, 
which  were  used  for  club  meetings,  were  unusually  pleasant.  On 
the  other  hand,  the  fact  that  the  assembly  hall  was  on  the  top  floor 
made  it  difficult  for  the  older  people  in  the  community  to  attend  the 
lectures  and  entertainments ;  the  fact  that  the  shower  baths  were  away 
from  the  gymnasium  and  that  the  entrance  which  was  to  be  used  for 
the  Social  Center  was  in  the  rear  of  the  building,  —  these  things  helped 
to  make  this  a  good  building  to  try  out  the  idea  from  the  point  of  view 
of  adaptation  of  the  building.  If  success  could  be  won  in  such  a 
building,  it  could  be  attained  almost  anywhere. 

It  was  decided  that  the  Social  Center  should  be  open  from  7.30  to 
10  o'clock  every  evening  in  the  week  except  Sunday.  One  even- 
ing was  set  apart  for  a  general  gathering  of  the  men  and  women, 


THE   SCHOOL  AS   A  CENTER  OF  SOCIAL  LIFE          79 

boys  and  girls,  of  the  Center.  On  this  evening  it  was  proposed  that  a 
lecture  or  entertainment,  somewhat  after  the  pattern  of  those  which 
are  provided  in  New  York  City,  should  be  given.  The  School  Board 
should  assume  complete  responsibility  for  the  character  of  these 
entertainments.  Like  the  lectures  given  in  New  York  City,  these 
general  lectures  were  to  cost  not  more  than  $10  apiece  in  addi- 
tion to  the  expense  of  the  speakers.  Unlike  the  lectures  given  in 
New  York,  these  were  to  be  provided  without  expense  to  the  city 
whenever  they  could  be  secured  without  imposition.  It  was  decided 
that  Friday  evening  should  be  used  as  the  evening  for  the  general 
lecture  or  entertainment  at  No.  14.  The  other  five  evenings  of  the 
week  were  to  be  divided  between  the  men  and  boys,  who  should  have 
three,  and  the  women  and  girls,  who  should  have  the  other  two. 
Tuesday,  Thursday  and  Saturday  were  set  apart  for  the  use  of  the  men 
and  boys,  Monday  and  Wednesday  for  the  women  and  girls. 

More  important  than  the  equipping  of  the  building  or  the  arrang- 
ing of  the  time  schedule  was  the  one  step  which  remained  to  be  taken 
before  the  Social  Center  work  could  be  begun.  This  was  the  appoint- 
ment of  directors  for  the  various  departments  of  the  work.  The  first 
position  in  the  Social  Center  was  naturally  that  of  the  director  of 
the  Center,  who  should  occupy  a  position  relative  to  that  of  the  prin- 
cipal of  the  school,  overseeing  all  of  the  various  activities  of  the  Center 
and  being  present  whenever  the  building  was  open.  This  position  was 
to  be  occupied  during  the  first  year  by  the  supervisor  of  the  Centers. 

Next  in  importance  to  the  director  was  the  assistant,  a  woman  to 
take  charge  of  the  women's  and  girls'  activities  of  the  Center  and 
serve  as  their  club  director.  It  was  especially  fortunate  for  the  try- 
ing out  of  the  experiment  at  No.  14  that  the  woman  who  was  ap- 
pointed to  this  position  not  only  had  such  a  spirit  of  social  interest 
that  she  made  over  five  hundred  calls  in  the  neighborhood,  in  which, 
by  the  way,  she  found  not  a  single  family  in  which  the  idea  of  the 
establishment  of  a  Social  Center  in  the  community  was  not  heartily 
welcomed,  but  she  also  possessed  ability  for  musical  leadership,  so 
that  even  before  the  Social  Center  was  formally  opened,  she  had 
gathered  an  orchestra  from  the  neighborhood  which  furnished  music 
on  the  general  evenings  throughout  the  year. 

The  third  position  to  be  filled  was  that  of  director  of  boys'  clubs. 
This  man  was  to  be  present  three  evenings  each  week,  was  to  prepare 
programs  for  the  meetings  of  the  boys'  organizations,  to  help  the 
debaters  and  other  speakers  from  among  the  boys  themselves  in  their 
work  of  preparation,  and  to  guide  them  in  the  orderly  conduct  of 
their  club  meetings.  The  qualifications  for  this  position  are  high, 
and  we  were  fortunate  in  securing  a  man  in  whom  they  were  unusually 
well  combined.  The  pay  for  this  service  was  to  be  at  the  same  rate 


8o  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

as  the  pay  of  an  evening  school  teacher,  $25  a  month,  though  the 
club  director  was  to  give  a  half  hour  more  each  night  than  is  given  by 
the  evening  school  teacher. 

The  charge  of  the  books  and  magazines  and  of  the  game  room 
required  the  appointment  of  a  librarian.  It  was  necessary  that  this 
person  should  give  five  nights  each  week  to  the  work,  being  present 
whenever  the  Center  was  open,  except  on  the  general  evening.  For  this 
position  it  was  necessary  to  have  some  one  who  was  not  only  familiar 
enough  with  books  to  advise  in  their  selection  and  to  help  in  finding 
material  for  debates,  etc.,  but  also  a  person  who  could  teach  chess  and 
other  table  games  and  could  prevent  disorder  without  preventing 
enjoyment.  The  salary  affixed  to  this  position  was  $30  per  month. 

The  gymnasium  work  required  the  appointment  of,  first,  a  director 
of  gymnasium  work  among  the  men  and  boys,  who  should  be  present 
on  their  three  evenings  and  who  should  be  equipped  to  lead  drills 
and  classes  in  apparatus  work  as  well  as  in  the  supervision  of  basket 
ball  and  other  gymnasium  games  (this  position,  like  that  of  the  club 
director,  was  to  pay  the  evening  school  rate  of  $25  per  month) ;  am 
second,  a  woman  gymnasium  director.     On  account  of  the  fact  th 
the  women's  gymnasium  was  to  consist  largely  of  drills  and  folk  dance: 
requiring  the  accompaniment  of  a  piano,  an  assistant  was  also  a, 
pointed  who  should  serve  as  pianist.     Because  of  the  exception 
qualifications  of  the  woman  who  was  appointed  to  take  charge  of  t 
women's  gymnasium  work,  the  salary  for  this  position  was  made  t' 
same  as  that  of  the  man  gymnasium  director,  in  spite  of  the  fact  tha 
she  was  to  serve  only  two  evenings  each  week.     The  assistant's 
salary  was  fixed  at  $15. 

In  addition  to  these  positions,  it  was  found  necessary  to  appoint 
door  and  hall  keeper;  first,  to  prevent  running  and  disorder  at  t 
entrance  and  in  the  halls ;  second,  to  exclude  the  children  who,  o: 
account  of  their  age,  were  ineligible  to  the  Social  Center;  and  thir< 
to  serve  as  an  information  bureau  and  guide  to  strangers  who  migl 
visit  the  Center. 

In  order  to  prepare  the  building  for  the  use  of  the  Social  Cent' 
and  to  put  it  in  order  for  the  day  school  use,  it  was  necessary  that  a: 
assistant  to  the  regular  janitor  of  the  building  be  employed.     Thi: 
man  was  to  be  responsible  to  the  day  janitor,  who  was  to  see  that  he 
did  the  required  work  in  a  proper  manner.     The  salary  attached  to 
this  position,  which  required  a  man's  presence  six  nights  each  week, 
was  $50  per  month. 

With  the  plan  of  the  work  definitely  laid  out,  the  building  equipped, 
the  schedule  of  the  division  of  time  arranged,  and  the  directors  ap- 
pointed, the  preparations  were  complete  for  the  actual  beginning 
of  the  work. 


THE   SCHOOL  AS  A   CENTER  OF  SOCIAL  LIFE          81 

Friday  evening,  November  i,  1907,  was  the  date  set  for  the  open- 
ing of  the  first  Social  Center.  In  spite  of  the  fact  that  very  many 
people  in  the  neighborhood  knew  nothing,  or  at  best  had  an  errone- 
ous idea,  of  the  project,  there  were  314  people  present.  .  .  . 

The  reason  for  the  success  of  the  Social  Center  No.  14,  through  its 
first  year,  was  not  primarily  in  any  inspiration  that  came  from  the 
Board  of  Education,  nor  in  the  hospitality  on  the  part  of  the  day 
school  teachers,  great  helps  as  both  of  these  were ;  it  was  primarily 
in  the  broad,  joyous,  hearty  spirit  of  cooperation  and  good  fel- 
lowship, which  the  people  in  the  community  began  to  show  on 
that  opening  evening.  There  was  present,  as  the  first  bulletin 
said,  "  a  feeling  that  a  great  new  opportunity  and  means  of 
acquaintanceship  and  enjoyment  had  come  into  our  neighbor- 
hood life."  The  immediate  perception  of  the  true  spirit  of  the 
Social  Centers  was  shown  by  one  of  the  men  of  the  community, 
who,  as  he  left  the  building,  remarked  to  the  director,  "  It  just 
means  for  the  people  to  get  their  money's  worth  out  of  their  own 
property." 

At  the  opening  of  the  Center,  the  fundamental  importance  of  club 
organization  had  been  explained  and  it  had  been  announced  that  the 
boys  between  14  and  17  would  have  an  opportunity  to  organize,  on 
the  following  evening,  a  club  which  should  hold  meetings  on  each  suc- 
cessive Saturday  evening.  The  gymnasium,  baths,  library,  etc., 
were  to  be  open  for  the  men  and  older  boys,  while  the  small  boys 
were  having  their  meeting.  The  young  men  between  17  and  21  were 
invited  to  form  a  club  to  meet  on  Tuesday  evening,  while  the  men  and 
younger  boys  were  to  have  the  use  of  the  other  parts  of  the  Social 
Center  equipment.  Thursday  evening  was  set  apart  for  the  club 
meeting  of  men,  if  such  a  club  were  formed,  the  boys  having  the 
gymnasium  and  the  rest  of  the  equipment  on  that  evening.  The 
women  were  invited  to  form  their  club  to  meet  on  Monday  evening, 
and  the  girls  and  younger  women  to  use  Wednesday  evenings,  each 
group  to  have  the  use  of  the  gymnasium,  etc.,  during  the  time  when 
its  members  were  not  holding  their  meeting.  > 

In  one  respect  all  of  these  organizations  were  to  be  alike.  They 
were  all  to  bear  the  expenses  which  their  meetings  and  programs  in- 
curred, except  the  expense  of  heating,  lighting  and  janitor  service, 
and,  in  the  case  of  the  clubs  of  young  people,  the  salary  of  the  club 
director ;  which  expenses  should  be  paid  out  of  the  Social  Center  fund. 
Each  club  was  to  be  free  and  dependent  upon  itself  for  the  selection 
of  officers,  arrangement  of  programs,  etc.  The  adult  clubs  would  have 
no  supervisor,  though  they  might,  of  course,  call  upon  any  of  the  So- 
cial Center  force  for  help.  The  younger  clubs  would  be  guided  in  their 
organization  by  a  director,  who  would  be  present  at  each  of  their 


82  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

meetings,  to  help  in  the  orderly  conduct  of  business  and  to  advise 
concerning  programs,  etc. 

It  was  further  announced  that  the  general  lectures  and  entertain- 
ments and  the  uses  of  the  rest  of  the  equipment  would  be  open  to 
all  men  and  women,  but  to  only  those  young  people  who  were  mem- 
bers in  good  standing  of  one  of  the  clubs.  This  requirement  was  not 
placed  upon  adults  because  it  was  expected  (and  the  event  fulfilled 
the  expectation)  that  for  them  the  club  meetings  would  be  the  most 
important  part  of  Social  Center  activity  anyway. 

On  Saturday  evening  about  twenty-eight  boys,  between  14  and  17, 
met  and  effected  an  organization.  A  constitution  was  drawn  up  with 
the  aid  of  the  director  and  adopted.  The  preamble  of  that  constitu- 
tion was  as  follows :  — 

"  Whereas,  the  world  needs  men  and  women  who  can  think  clearly 
and  express  their  thoughts  well ;  and  whereas,  each  of  us  has  powers 
of  clear  thinking  and  good  expression  which  need  only  practice 
for  development;  and  whereas,  by  combination  of  effort  the  best 
results  may  be  obtained,  we  whose  names  are  hereunto  annexed,  do 
form  a  society  whose  object  shall  be  the  cultivation  of  the  powers 
of  clear  thinking  and  good  expression  by  means  of  debates,  essays, 
orations,  public  readings  and  discussions." 

The  following  Tuesday  evening  thirty-four  boys,  between  17  and 
21,  came  together  and  formed  an  organization  similar  to  that  which 
the  younger  boys  had  formed  on  Saturday  evening,  adopting  a  con- 
stitution similar  to  that  of  the  younger  club. 

The  Men's  Club,  for  which  Thursday  evening  was  reserved,  did  not 
materialize  until  a  month  later. 

On  Monday  evening  some  forty  women  formed  an  organization  to 
hold  weekly  meetings,  drew  up  a  constitution  and  elected  officers. 

The  girls  under  21  formed  their  club  on  the  same  lines  as  those 
followed  by  the  boys'  organization,  on  Wednesday  evening. 

In  the  younger  clubs  it  was  voted  that  the  programs  should  consist 
of  two  debates,  one  address  by  an  outside  speaker  and  one  miscella- 
neous program  each  month.  The  women's  club  decided  to  have  two 
addresses,  one  debate  or  other  special  program,  and  one  social  even- 
ing each  month. 

In  each  of  these  clubs  it  was  voted  that  a  small  sum  of  money  should 
be  required  as  dues,  which  should  go  into  a  club  fund  for  providing 
refreshments  on  social  evenings  or  to  bear  any  other  expense  which 
the  club  might  incur. 

In  each  of  these  clubs,  at  the  beginning,  the  membership  was 
restricted  to  those  whom  the  club  elected  in  by  vote,  the  theory 
being  that  new  clubs  of  boys  and  girls  or  women  might  be  formed 
at  any  time  by  those  who,  for  any  reason,  did  not  become  members  of 


THE  SCHOOL  AS  A  CENTER  OF  SOCIAL  LIFE          83 

the  already  existing  clubs.  Following  out  this  idea,  there  were  formed 
within  a  month  after  the  organization  of  the  first  clubs,  two  other 
clubs  of  boys  between  17  and  21,  one  other  club  of  boys  between  14 
and  17,  and  a  second  women's  club ;  so  that  by  the  middle  of  the  first 
year  in  No.  14,  there  were  five  boys'  clubs,  two  women's  clubs  and 
one  young  women's  club. 

On  December  5,  1907,  twelve  men  came  together  in  the  Social 
Center  and  organized  the  first  Men's  Civic  Club.  The  aim  of  this 
organization  was  expressed  in  the  preamble  of  its  constitution  as 
follows :  — 

"  Whereas,  the  welfare  of  society  demands  that  those  whose  duty 
t  is  to  exercise  the  franchise  be  well  informed  upon  the  economic, 
ndustrial  and  political  questions  of  to-day;  and  whereas,  by  com- 
bination of  effort  the  best  results  may  be  obtained;  and  whereas, 
:he  public  school  building  is  the  best  available  place  for  such  com- 
bination of  effort ;  therefore,  we,  whose  names  are  hereunto  annexed, 
do  form  a  society,  to  hold,  in  the  public  school  building,  meetings 
whose  object  shall  be  the  gaining  of  information  upon  public  questions 
)y  listening  to  public  speakers  and  by  public  readings  and  discussions." 

At  this  first  meeting  of  the  club,  Dr.  J.  L.  Roseboom  was  elected 
resident.  In  his  inaugural  address  was  expressed  the  true  spirit 

the  Social  Center  as  the  restoration  to  the  school  in  the  city  of  the 
lemocratic  social  activities,  which  were  connected  with  the  uses  of  the 
>choolhouse  "  back  home."  In  that  address  he  said  that  he  had  been 
>rought  up,  as  a  boy,  in  a  farming  community  where  the  individual's 
nterest  in  and  responsibility  for  public  matters  finds  expression  in 
neetings  in  the  schoolhouse.  He  had  watched  the  development  of 
;he  Social  Center  and  had  noticed  a  similarity  to  the  social  uses  of 
the  schoolhouses  there.  He  felt  that  the  institution  would  not  be 
:ompleted  unless,  like  its  prototype,  it  included  meetings  of  the  men 
n  the  community,  for  the  open  presentation  and  free  discussion  of 
Dublic  questions. 

The  representative  character  of  this  organization  was  shown  in  the 
ract  that  among  the  first  set  of  officers  elected,  two  were  members 
)f  the  "  well-to-do"  class,  one  a  banker,  the  other  a  physician, 
vhile  the  others  were  men  who  labored  with  their  hands. 

The  enthusiasm  with  which  the  organization  of  this  Men's  Civic 
lub  was  received  was  such  that  at  the  second  meeting  of  the  club 
:he  membership  roll  increased  to  fifty.  At  that  meeting  Alderman 
'rank  Ward,  who  had  been  invited  to  address  the  Club  on  "The 
duties  of  an  Alderman,"  made  a  memorable  statement  as  to  the 
ralue  of  such  an  organization.  At  the  close  of  his  address  he  responded 
;o  the  vote  of  thanks  tendered  him  by  the  club,  by  saying :  "  You 
lave  given  me  a  vote  of  thanks.  I  feel  that  I  want  to  give  you  a 


84  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

vote  of  thanks  for  the  privilege  of  speaking  to  you  and  hearing  your 
frank  discussion  of  my  words.  If  you  have  been  benefited  by  my 
coming  here,  I  have  been  benefited  more.  If  every  member  of  the 
Common  Council  and  every  other  public  servant  had,  frequently, 
such  opportunities  as  this  to  discuss  public  matters  with  those  to  whom 
he  owes  his  appointment,  it  would  mean  that  we  would  have  much 
better,  more  intelligent,  representation  of  the  people's  interests  and 
a  cleaner  government." 

In  addition  to  these  clubs,  the  only  other  one  formed  was  the  or- 
chestra, which  has  already  been  mentioned,  and  which,  while  it  had 
no  regular  written  constitution  or  form  of  business  in  meetings, 
virtually  constituted  a  club.  There  were  ten  members  of  the  or- 
chestra, both  men  and  women.  They  met  for  practice,  under  the 
leadership  of  the  assistant  director  of  the  Center  every  Tuesday 
evening,  and  then  played  at  the  general  Friday  evening  lecture  or 
entertainment.  The  part  that  this  organization  had  in  making  the 
Social  Center  attractive  and  successful  was  very  great. 

Extracts  from  "  The  Second  Year's  Record" 

The  selection  of  the  names  "  Coming  Civic  Club  "  and  "  Future 
Civic  Club/7  and  their  significance,  have  been  mentioned.  The 
motto  that  was  chosen  by  one  of  these  clubs  "  From  the  corners  to 
the  Center "  is  also  significant.  The  phrase  suggests  the  larger 
service  of  the  Social  Center  as  a  place  where  people  of  different  groups, 
political,  religious  and  social,  who  occupy  various  corners  of  our  frag- 
mentary life,  may  meet,  become  acquainted,  broaden  their  outlook 
and  develop  the  ability  to  think  in  terms  of  the  whole  city.  But, 
while  that  is  the  greater  service  of  the  Social  Centers,  the  service 
that  is  first  suggested  by  this  phrase  "  From  the  corners  to  the  Cen- 
ter," to  the  boys  and  young  men  of  the  community,  who  would,  with- 
out the  Social  Center,  be  spending  their  time  on  street  corners,  is  a 
great  one. 

On  Sunday  afternoon,  December  20,  the  most  remarkable  evi- 
dence that  has  appeared  thus  far,  of  the  value  of  the  Coming  Civic 
Clubs  as  a  means  of  training  boys  and  young  men  in  self-government, 
was  given  at  No.  14  Social  Center.  The  director,  coming  from  one 
of  the  other  Centers,  arrived  in  the  middle  of  the  afternoon.  When 
he  entered  the  building,  not  seeing  any  of  the  boys  about,  he  asked 
the  doorkeeper  where  they  were.  "  They  are  holding  a  meeting  in 
the  Art  Room,"  he  answered.  "  Who  is  with  them?  "  asked  the 
director.  "  Nobody,"  was  the  response.  "  Don't  you  know  that  the> 
should  not  be  in  that  room  without  a  director  present?  "  "  I  have 
been  listening,"  replied  the  doorkeeper,  "  in  the  hall,  and  they  seem 


THE   SCHOOL  AS  A  CENTER  OF  SOCIAL  LIFE          85 

j|  to  be  orderly."  The  director  went  to  the  Art  Room,  and,  opening  the 
door,  found  between  thirty  and  forty  fellows,  sitting  in  perfect  order, 
the  president  in  his  chair,  the  secretary  beside  him  taking  the  minutes 
of  the  meeting,  and  one  of  the  youths  on  his  feet  presenting  the  claims 
of  Mr.  Bryan  for  the  presidency.  The  director  sat  down  to  listen 
to  the  discussion.  After  the  speaker  had  used  his  allotted  time,  the 
floor  was  given  to  a  rival  claimant;  and  so  an  orderly  triangular 
debate  was  carried  through.  When  it  was  over,  it  was  learned  that 
a  dispute  had  been  started  in  the  hall  over  the  relative  merits  of 
the  Republican  and  Democratic  candidates.  A  year  before,  if  these 
fellows  had  been  interested  at  all  in  such  a  question,  a  dispute  would 
have  led  to  loud  contradictions,  possibly  blows.  In  the  midst  of  the 
discussion  in  the  hall  it  was  suggested  that,  in  order  to  give  all  sides 
a  fair  show,  they  should  hold  a  five-sided  debate,  with  two  defendants 
of  the  claims  of  each  of  the  candidates.  There  being  no  Independ- 
ence Leaguer  nor  Prohibitionist  present,  it  was  finally  decided  to  make 
it  a  triangular  debate,  giving  the  one  Socialist  youth  in  the  crowd 
a  chance  to  speak  twice  to  make  up  for  the  fact  that  there  were  two 
Republicans  and  two  Democrats  present. 

Here  these  fellows  were,  holding,  on  their  own  initiative,  an  orderly 
debate,  these  fellows  who,  a  year  before,  had  been  willing  to  do  al- 
most anything  to  get  out  of  debating  in  the  club  meetings.  None 
of  them  were  schoolboys,  and  some  of  them  were  fellows  of  the  "  nat- 
urally agin  the  government "  type. 

The  statement  of  the  object  of  one  of  these  Coming  Civic  Clubs 
was  that  day  shown  to  be  more  than  empty  words.  "  The  object  of 
the  club  shall  be  to  train  its  members  for  citizenship  in  the  republic." 

In  addition  to  the  opportunities  which  are  offered  by  the  regular 
meetings  of  these  clubs,  for  the  demonstration  of  their  service,  there 
have  been  two  occasions  when  the  public  has  had  a  chance  to  learn 
what  they  mean  to  the  young  fellows.  One  of  these  was  in  the  ad- 
dress, called  for  and  given  without  preparation,  by  the  president  of 
the  West  High  Coming  Civic  Club  on  the  occasion  of  the  visit  of 
the  delegation  which  came  from  Buffalo  to  see  the  Social  Centers, 
on  the  i4th  of  December.  No  one  who  was  present  could  fail  to 
be  impressed  by  the  words  of  this  young  man,  when  he  told  how  the 
fellows  of  that  neighborhood  appreciated  the  opening  of  the  Social 
Center.  The  other  was  the  address  given  by  the  president  of  the 
No.  14  Coming  Civic  Club  at  the  "  People's  Sunday  Evening  "  in 
the  National  Theater  on  February  7.  Here  this  young  fellow  gave 
the  challenge,  "  How  do  you  expect  boys  to  grow  up  into  good  citi- 
zens when  they  have  nothing  but  the  training  of  the  street  corners?  " 

The  same  plan  of  activity,  which  was  established  during  the  first 
year,  has  been  folio  wed  in  these  clubs,  the  emphasis  being  upon  debating. 


86  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

The  clubs  have  had  social  affairs  of  various  kinds.  That  at  No. 
14  has  given  a  second  minstrel  show,  which  was  quite  as  successful 
as  that  of  last  year.  The  club  at  West  High  entertained  the  girls' 
club  with  a  sleighride  and  supper.  But  interest  in  the  club  life  cen- 
ters always  about  debating,  and  the  attention  was  focused  upon  the 
final  triangular  debate  between  teams  from  the  three  Centers,  which 
met  to  compete  for  championship  in  a  triangular  debate  at  West 
High  on  April  15. 

The  activities  to  which  the  girls'  clubs  have  been  devoted  through 
this  year  have  been  more  of  a  social  character  than  those  of  the  boys' 
clubs.  The  girls'  club  at  No.  14  has  continued  on  much  the  same 
lines  that  it  followed  during  the  first  year.  The  club  at  West  High 
was  organized  primarily  as  a  Shakespeare  study  club.  Portia,  how- 
ever, soon  came  down  from  her  pedestal  to  play  basket  ball,  and 
through  most  of  the  year  gymnasium  work  has  played  a  large  part 
in  the  life  of  the  West  High  Club. 

The  strongest  girls'  club,  in  point  of  numbers,  is  that  at  No.  9 
Center,  which  meets  on  Sunday  afternoon.  No  one  could  visit  a 
meeting  of  this  club  without  realizing  the  great  value  of  such  an  or- 
ganization of  young  women. 

In  all  of  the  girls'  clubs  the  same  tendency  which  is  shown  by  the 
other  clubs  toward  a  fair  balance  between  serious  work  and  recrea- 
tion is  apparent.  Organized  work  in  singing  has  been  begun  in  each 
of  these  clubs,  and  it  is  probable  that  some  excellent  developments 
of  this  kind  may  be  expected  during  the  coming  year. 

The  character  of  the  Women's  Civic  Clubs  may  be  shown  by  quot- 
ing the  preamble  of  the  constitution  of  the  one  which  meets  at  West 
High  Social  Center  on  Tuesday  evening,  and  giving  the  topics  and 
attendance  at  its  meetings.  This  constitution  and  program  are 
typical  of  all  three  of  these  clubs. 

"  Preamble 

"  Whereas,  we  as  twentieth  century  women  have  duties  to  society, 
to  our  homes  and  to  ourselves  which  demand  that  we  be  well  informed 
upon  public  questions  and  that  we  have  broad  sympathy  with  our 
fellows : 

"  And  whereas,  organization  for  securing  public  speakers,  for  dis- 
cussions, debates,  entertainments  and  all  sorts  of  wholesome  gather- 
ings, is  among  the  best  means  for  the  attainment  of  these  ends; 

"  And  whereas,  the  public  school  building  is  the  best  available  place 
for  such  organization; 

"  We,  whose  names  are  hereunto  annexed,  do  form  ourselves  into  a 
society,  to  hold  meetings  in  the  Public  School  Building  for  listening 
to  public  speakers,  for  discussions,  debates,  entertainments  and  all 


THE   SCHOOL   AS  A   CENTER  OF   SOCIAL  LIFE          87 

sorts  of  wholesome  social  gatherings,  to  the  end  that  we  may  gain 
'or  ourselves,  and  for  the  community,  intelligence  upon  public  ques- 
tions and  sympathetic  acquaintance  with  our  fellows."  .  .  . 

Meeting  in  the  earnest  consideration  of  common  problems,  differ- 
ences of  race  or  creed  only  add  to  the  interest  of  this  acquaintance- 
ship. In  this  broad  fine  atmosphere,  pettyness  has  never  appeared. 

The  word  "  civic  "  is  no  misnomer.  The  main  business  of  these 
clubs  is  the  dissemination  of  intelligence  on  public  questions.  At 
the  same  time  a  strong  emphasis  is  laid  upon  social  activities.  A 
fine  illustration  of  this  sort  of  program  was  the  "  Recipe  Exchange  " 
which  the  No.  14  Women's  Civic  Club  held  on  Monday  evening, 
March  22,  1909.  Each  of  the  members  of  the  club  brought  a  dish 
of  her  favorite  cooking,  and  a  recipe  for  preparing  it.  The  various 
dishes  were  placed  upon  the  table;  the  recipes  were  written  on  the 
board  and  copied  by  each  of  the  members.  The  evening  closed  by 
the  serving  of  the  favorite  dishes,  a  sample  of  each  for  every  member. 
These  meetings  are  not  at  all  "  dress  "  occasions,  the  women,  as  a 
rule,  leaving  their  hats  in  the  cloak  room  and  spending  the  hour  with- 
out formality. 

Not  only  have  these  clubs  served  to  bring  together,  upon  a  common 
ground  of  acquaintance,  the  women  of  each  community,  but  they  have 
also  served  to  acquaint  the  women  of  the  different  sections  of 
the  city  with  each  other,  each  of  the  clubs  having  entertained,  during 
the  year,  the  members  of  the  Women's  Clubs  from  the  other  Social 
Centers.  In  addition  to  the  social  affairs  carried  on  by  the  women 
among  themselves,  it  has  been  the  custom  of  the  Women's  Civic  Clubs, 
particularly  of  that  in  No.  14  Center,  to  entertain,  about  once  a  month, 
the  Men's  Civic  Clubs.  On  these  occasions  refreshments  are  served, 
and  a  special  program  of  music  is  provided.  The  usual  plan  is  for  the 
Men's  Club  to  pay  the  expenses  and  the  women  to  serve  the  refresh- 
ments and  provide  the  program.  All  such  affairs  have  been  carried 
on  without  expense  to  the  city. 

The  most  notable  of  these  occasions,  and  indeed  one  which  marks 
the  peculiar  service  of  the  Social  Center,  took  place  at  No.  14  on  the 
night  of  February  22,  when  the  Women's  Civic  Club  entertained 
the  Italian  Men's  Civic  Club.  This  Women's  Civic  Club  is  made  up, 
almost  entirely,  of  American-born  women.  The  majority  of  the 
Italian  Men's  Civic  Club  are,  more  or  less,  recent  immigrants,  who 
do  not  speak  English  fluently.  The  whole  evening  was  one  of  ex- 
ceptionally fine  spirit,  one  woman  remarking  that  never  before  had  she 
realized  that  "  people  who  are  so  different  are  so  much  the  same." 

I"  I  never  realized  before  how  interesting  humanity  is,"  she  said.     The 
climax  of  the  evening  was  in  the  presentation  by  the  Women's  Civic 


88  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

Club  of  a  silk  Italian  flag  to  the  Italian  Men's  Civic  Club,  and  the 
presentation  in  return  by  the  Italian  Men's  Civic  Club,  to  the  women, 
of  a  handsome  picture  of  George  Washington.  Together  they  hang 
in  the  Social  Center,  the  emblem  of  the  internationalism,  the  humanity, 
that  recognizes  race  differences  as  lines,  not  for  prejudice  or  hatred, 
but  to  be  rejoiced  in  because  they  bring  diversity  and  interest  to  the 
larger  human  unity.  Two  weeks  later  the  Italian  men  entertained  the 
Women's  Civic  Club  and  presented  to  them  a  silk  American  flag.  .  .  . 

The  Men's  Civic  Clubs,  differing  with  the  different  communities 
in  which  they  have  been  organized,  have  all  kept,  throughout  this 
year,  the  same  character  of  broad  civic  interest  and  freedom  which 
marked  those  organized  last  year. 

In  the  account  of  the  organization  of  No.  14  Men's  Civic  Club 
is  given  the  statement  of  Alderman  Frank  A.  Ward,  regarding  the  value 
of  such  an  organization,  which  he  made  at  the  second  meeting  of  this 
club. 

A  statement  that  may  well  be  put  with  that  of  Alderman  Ward 
was  made  at  the  organization  meeting  of  the  Civic  Club  formed  in 
No.  30  School  Building  on  February  5,  when  Alderman  William  Buck- 
ley said:  "  The  value  of  the  Civic  Club  from  the  point  of  view  of  the 
private  citizen  has  been  stated.  I  want  to  say  a  word  in  regard  to 
its  value  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  public  servant.  An  alderman 
is  elected  to  represent  the  people ;  a  good  alderman  wants  to  repre- 
sent the  people,  but  how  in  the  world  can  he  represent  the  people  un- 
less he  knows  what  the  people  want  ?  And  how  shall  he  know  what 
the  people  want  unless  they  tell  him?  I  welcome  the  Civic  Club 
because  it  will  give  me  an  opportunity  to  learn  the  will  of  the  people 
in  this  neighborhood." .  .  . 

The  regular  meetings  of  the  clubs  are  given  over  entirely  to  the 
presentation  and  discussion  of  public  questions.  In  the  programs 
of  all  of  the  clubs  there  has  been  constantly  evident  a  desire  for  the 
presentation  of  both  sides  of  any  mooted  question,  and  in  the  success 
thus  far  gained,  in  having  a  fair  opportunity  for  both  sides  of  ques- 
tions to  be  represented,  is  indicated  the  exceptional  service  of  the 
Civic  Club.  As  an  illustration  of  this  practice  of  listening  to  both 
sides,  the  treatment  of  the  saloon  question  may  be  taken.  At  one 
meeting  Mr.  C.  N.  Howard,  the  noted  Prohibitionist,  presented 
the  argument  against  the  saloon.  He  was  followed  at  the  next  meet- 
ing of  the  club  by  the  vice  president  of  the  Turnverein,  who  presented 
a  carefully  prepared  paper  upon  the  service  of  the  saloon  as  a  social 
institution  for  men  who  cannot  afford  private  clubs.  Men,  who 
sided  with  each  of  these  speakers,  attended  both  meetings,  and  the 
effect  of  such  fair  presentation  was  pointed  out  by  the  Prohibition 


THE   SCHOOL  AS   A  CENTER  OF  SOCIAL  LIFE          89 

County  Chairman,  who  said  that,  while  he  believed  the  saloon  advo- 
cate was  wrong,  yet  this  pair  of  addresses  had  left  him  with  more 
respect  than  he  had  ever  had  before  for  the  men  who  differed  from 
him.  The  same  broadening  result  naturally  followed  in  the  discus- 
sions of  the  problems  of  the  relation  between  labor  and  capital.  For 
instance,  the  conviction  of  Gompers,  Mitchell  and  Morrison  was  pre- 
sented upon  one  night  by  a  prominent  manufacturer,  who  believed, 
and  gave  his  reasons  for  believing,  that  the  action  of  the  court  was 
just.  At  the  following  meeting  one  of  the  recognized  labor  leaders 
presented  the  arguments  against  this  position.  The  question  of  the 
value  of  newspapers  was  presented ;  first,  by  the  editor  of  one  of  the 
papers  in  the  city,  who  spoke  on  their  high  service,  and  then  by  Samuel 
Hopkins  Adams,  who,  in  a  paper  on  "  Undercurrents  of  Journalism" 
gave  his  views  of  the  evil  of  the  control  of  the  press  by  unscrupulous 
interests.  The  benefit  of  a  free  nonpartisan  platform  in  developing 
a  courteous  attitude,  between  those  who  differ  radically  upon  public 
questions,  was  well  illustrated  in  the  spirit  shown  in  the  presentation 
of  the  two  sides  of  the  free  textbook  question  in  successive  meetings 
before  one  of  the  clubs.  It  was  after  one  of  these  pairs  of  discussions 
that  a  reporter  of  one  of  the  papers  said  to  the  director  of  the  Center, 
"  I  have  never  expected  to  see  an  organization  developed  in  which 
such  questions  could  be  so  warmly  discussed  without  bitterness." 
While  there  was  never  yet,  in  all  of  these  discussions,  developed  any 
discourtesy,  their  earnestness  may  be  shown  by  a  remarkable  inci- 
dent. At  one  of  the  meetings  a  seasoned  newspaper  reporter  actually 
so  far  forgot  his  mission  that  he  not  only  failed  to  take  notes  of  the 
discussion,  but  rose  and  took  part  in  it.  When  the  city  editor  ques- 
tioned him  about  it,  he  answered  that  if  he  (the  city  editor)  had  been 
there,  he  probably  would  have  done  the  same  thing. 

While  most  of  the  meetings  of  these  clubs  have  been  devoted  to 
larger  public  questions,  whenever  local  community  problems  have 
come  up  for  solution,  these  clubs  have  dealt  with  them.  They  have 
uniformly  showed  a  conservative  spirit  in  their  actions  regarding 
local  or  municipal  improvements.  Only  in  a  few  cases  have  the  clubs 
united  in  definite  requests;  in  seeking  the  securing  of  playgrounds 
or  parks,  in  seeking  to  secure  changes  in  the  street  railway  service, 
and  otherwise  in  improving  the  conditions  of  their  neighborhoods.  .  .  . 

There  have  been  indications  of  the  development  of  recreational 
activities  in  connection  with  the  clubs.  For  instance,  one  of  them  has 
taken  steps  this  year  toward  securing  bowling  alleys,  and  it  is  likely 
that  this  club  will  carry  the  project  through,  because  the  building  in 
which  it  meets  will  not  offer  the  difficulties  which  stood  in  the  way 
of  the  club  at  No.  14  last  year.  But  whatever  recreational  or  other 
features  may  be  added  to  the  Civic  Club  activities,  it  is  probable 


90  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

that  its  prime  service  will  remain  the  development  of  intelligent  pub- 
lic spirit  by  the  open  presentation  and  free  discussion  of  public 
questions. 

Special  reference  should  be  made  to  the  service  of  the  two  Italian 
Men's  Civic  Clubs  which  have  been  organized  this  year.  These  have 
the  same  object  as  the  other  Men's  Civic  Clubs,  and  in  addition  to  that 
object  the  members  aim  especially  to  serve  their  recently  arrived 
compatriots.  Any  one  who  has  studied  at  all  the  problem  of  immi- 
gration realizes  the  great  advantage  which  can  be  gained  from  such 
an  organization.  The  newcomer  to  this  country  is  liable  to  all  sorts 
of  tricks  by  which  advantage  is  taken  of  his  ignorance  of  the  laws  and 
usages  of  his  new  home  and  of  his  rights  as  a  citizen.  Moreover,  he 
needs  sympathetic  guidance  in  order  to  a  quick  adjustment  to  his 
new  surroundings.  It  is  for  this  double  service  of  protecting  the 
Italian  immigrants  from  the  preying  upon  their  ignorance,  and  to  help 
them  in  understanding  their  new  citizenship,  that  the  two  clubs,  the 
one  at  No.  14  Social  Center  and  the  other  at  No.  5  School  Building, 
were  formed.  One  of  these  clubs  has  had  the  benefit  of  the  direction 
of  an  Italian,  a  court  interpreter  and  a  teacher  in  one  of  the  high 
schools.  The  other  has  been  in  charge  of  an  Italian-speaking  American 
citizen.  Both  of  these  men  have  given  their  service  without  charge, 
and  each  of  them  has  shown  remarkable  devotion  to  the  welfare  of 
the  immigrant.  That  these  clubs  have  done  the  service  for  which 
they  were  organized  is  shown  by  the  words  of  one  of  the  members 
of  the  club  at  No.  14,  who,  at  the  close  of  the  concert  which  that 
club  gave  on  December  20,  said,  "  Here,  for  the  first  time,  I  find 
realized  the  dream  of  what  America  would  be,  which  I  dreamed  when 
I  was  in  Italy." 

The  spirit  of  these  clubs,  which  is  appreciated  in  such  words  as  the 
above,  is  expressed  in  the  accompanying  cartoon,  drawn  by  one  of  the 
members  of  the  "Spontaneous  Art  Club."  At  one  end  the  Italian 
coat  of  arms,  at  the  other  the  United  States  shield,  each  of  them  merg- 
ing into  the  large  brotherhood  of  the  Social  Center,  signifying  the 
idea  of  "  Social  Exchange."  The  common  attitude  toward  the  for- 
eigner might  be  expressed  by  merging  the  Italian  coat  of  arms  into  the 
United  States  shield.  This  would  signify  that  nothing  is  made  of 
the  Italian's  contribution  to  the  common  store;  he  is  regarded  as 
simply  a  learner  coming  to  get  something  from  the  American.  In 
the  Social  Center,  with  this  idea  of  exchange,  it  is  recognized  that  the 
Italian  has  something  to  get,  but  he  also  has  something  to  give ;  he 
has  much  to  learn,  but  he  also  has  much  to  teach.  He  is  there  not 
simply  as  a  recipient  of  the  service  or  advice  of  the  American,  who 
says,  "  You  must  become  like  me,"  rather  he  is  there  met  by  the  Ameri- 
can, who  says,  "  Let  us  get  together,  you  with  your  ideas  and  hopes 


THE   SCHOOL  AS  A  CENTER  OF  SOCIAL  LIFE          gi 

and  traditions  and  we  with  ours,  and  so  shall  we  both  develop  a 
larger  understanding,  so  shall  we  both  be  benefited/7  The  response 
of  the  Italians  to  this  manner  of  meeting  them  as  men  and  brothers, 
and  its  effect,  is  indicated  in  the  words  of  one  of  them  who,  speaking 
at  the  meeting  of  the  "  People's  Sunday  Evening  "  in  the  National 
Theater,  on  February  7,  said  that  never  before  had  he  known  of 
any  institution  which  so  strongly  tended  to  develop  the  self-respect 
and  the  manhood  of  the  Italian.  "  When  you  meet  the  Italian  half 
way,"  said  he,  "  as  you  do  in  the  Social  Center,  recognizing  that  he, 
as  an  Italian,  has  something  to  bring,  something  to  contribute  to  the 
common  store,  then  you  teach  him  to  love  and  honor  the  American 
Flag  and  all  that  it  stands  for  to  you,  by  showing  some  respect  for 
his  flag,  and  all  that  that  stands  for  to  him,  then  you  make  him 
feel  friendly,  you  make  him  feel  that  he  is  a  man,  you  make  him  feel 
that  he  must  be  worthy  of  his  larger  citizenship."  .  .  . 

The  total  attendance  at  these  "  General  Evenings  "  at  the  three 
Centers  this  year,  from  November  i  to  April  17,  was  22,961,  an 
average  attendance  for  each  evening  of  353.  In  all  there  have  been 
65  lectures  or  entertainments  provided;  of  these  42  have  been  fur- 
nished without  expense  to  the  city.  Not  more  than  ten  dollars  has 
been  paid  as  a  fee  for  any  lecture;  in  addition  to  this  fee  it  has,  of 
course,  been  necessary  to  pay  the  traveling  expenses  of  those  speakers 
who  have  been  brought  here  from  out  of  town.  The  total  cost,  aside 
from  the  lighting,  heat,  janitor  service  and  supervision,  of  these  gen- 
eral evenings  has  been  $291.70.  This  makes  the  cost  for  special  en- 
tertainment or  lectures  less  than  a  penny  and  a  quarter  per  attendance. 

The  same  spirit  of  generous  cooperation  has  been  shown  during 
this  year,  not  only  by  those  who  have  given  their  services  free  of 
charge,  but  also  by  those  who  have  received  a  fee,  for,  in  every  such 
case,  the  service  has  been  given  at  a  fraction  of  the  usual  charge  for 
such  service. 

E.  J.  Ward.    Extracts  from  a  pamphlet  of  the  above  title.    Courtesy  of  the  author. 

Comment  on  the  School  as  a  Social  Center 

Two  of  the  most  important  educational  movements  of  the  last 
twenty-five  years  in  the  United  States,  says  President  Eliot,  have  had 
to  do  with  young  people  who  have  passed  the  school  age.  These 
movements  are  the  development  of  social  centers  and  of  playground 
and  amusement  centers.1  The  social  center  work  is,  in  brief,  a  move- 
ment to  utilize  in  various  ways  outside  of  regular  school  hours  the 

1  Conflict  of  Individualism  and  Collectivism  in  a  Democracy,  p.  68. 


92  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

school  building  and  equipment  for  the  benefit  of  the  entire  community. 
It  is  the  expression  of  the  growing  idea  "  that  the  school  should  minister 
to  other  needs  of  the  community  besides  the  purely  educational." 

It  is  not  implied  that  the  education  of  the  children  is  not  a  true 
social  service,  but  rather  that  with  small  additional  expense  the  school 
plant  may  be  adapted  to  other  important  services  which  are  also 
broadly  educational.  "  It  is  in  this  idea  of  the  school  as  a  social  cen- 
ter that  the  whole  modern  evolution  in  education  finds  its  completion. 
The  school  building  becomes  not  merely  a  place  for  educating  the  young, 
it  is  the  place  where  the  whole  community  educates  itself,  adults  as 
well  as  children.  It  is  not  open  simply  for  a  few  hours  in  each  day 
and  for  one  specific  purpose,  but  during  all  the  social  hours  it  is  open 
for  social  ends.  It  displaces  evil  forces.  The  tavern  and  the  saloon 
are  displaced  as  centers  of  political  and  social  influence.  The  school 
is  made  the  home  of  games,  of  lectures,  of  concerts,  of  reading  rooms 
and  of  many  other  forms  of  community  culture  and  innocent  amuse- 
ment. "  l  The  theory  and  the  practice  of  this  conception  of  the  larger 
function  of  education  in  the  modern  community  is  admirably  stated 
in  the  two  papers  printed  herewith.  In  the  paper  by  Professor  Dewey 
the  underlying  principles  are  presented ;  in  Mr.  Ward's  paper  we  have 
an  account  of  how  these  principles  were  actually  applied  in  the  city 
of  Rochester.  As  the  reader  will  have  noted,  the  work  was  there 
started  with  men's  civic  clubs  and  extended  from  them  to  organiza- 
tions of  women  and  of  young  people.  It  has  been  maintained  by 
those  engaged  in  that  work  that  this  is  the  most  desirable  sequence ; 
that  if  the  social  center  work  is  organized  first  for  the  youth,  it  will 
never  spread  to  and  include  the  adults,  especially  the  men  of  the  com- 
munity. However  that  may  be,  it  is  true  that  social  center  work  as 
understood  in  most  cities  has  been  confined  to  work  among  children 
and  young  people;  that  is,  to  opening  the  school  building  after  regu- 
lar school  hours  to  provide  a  meeting  place  for  boys'  and  girls'  clubs, 
a  place  for  quiet  study,  for  playing  games  and  gymnastics,  for  social 
gatherings,  etc.  There  can  be  no  question  but  that  all  communities, 
even  those  of  the  villages  and  rural  districts,  need  such  a  properly 
controlled  center  for  general  neighborhood  life.  The  need,  as  far  as 
the  young  people  are  concerned,  is  especially  great.  It  has  three  as- 

1  Condensed  from  The  Independent,  Vol.  57,  p.  in. 


THE   SCHOOL  AS  A  CENTER  OF  SOCIAL  LIFE          93 

pects,  that  for  recreation,  for  social  intercourse,  and  for  a  continuation 
of  instruction  beyond  the  school  years.  With  reference  to  adults, 
these  needs  are  also  real,  but  it  is  still  a  question  as  to  just  how  far  the 
school  can  reach  them  along  all  these  lines.  In  the  evening  lecture 
system  of  New  York  and  some  other  cities  the  continuation  of  the 
education  of  adults  is  apparently  carried  on  with  much  success.  On 
the  side  of  recreation  and  social  intercourse,  the  schools  can  also  reach 
the  adults  to  a  limited  degree.  In  the  smaller  community  the  whole 
population  needs  to  be  brought  together  occasionally  in  the  spirit  of 
play,  of  social  intercourse,  and  of  general  good  fellowship.  In  the 
larger  communities  the  life  is  so  complex  and  interests  are  so  diversi- 
fied, it  is  apparently  impossible  to  get  all  the  people  together  on  any 
such  common  ground;  but  even  here  there  are  portions  of  the  com- 
munity which  respond  and  are  undoubtedly  benefited.  There  seems 
no  good  reason  why  the  work  should  not  be  carried  on  as  far  as  op- 
portunity affords,  even  if  all  the  members  of  the  neighborhood  do  not 
respond.  >» 

The  need  for  social  center  work  on  the  part  of  the  school  is  directly 
related  to  the  increasing  complexity  of  modern  community  life,  es- 
pecially in  the  cities.  The  mere  fact  that  all  classes  will  not  respond 
does  not  prove  that  they  would  not  be  benefited  if  they  could  be  in- 
duced to  cultivate  the  neighborly  spirit  through  the  social  center. 

For  accomplishing  all  such  things  it  would  seem  to  be  the  part  of 
economy  to  employ  as  far  as  possible  the  capital  which  society  has 
invested  in  its  schools.  It  is  true  the  public  school  property  may, 
if  devoted  to  these  broader  uses,  deteriorate  more  rapidly  than  if 
confined  strictly  to  its  traditional  functions,  although  experience 
has  shown  that  the  wear  is  not  in  proportion  to  the  additional  service. 
In  fact,  it  appears  in  some  places  that  the  broader  social  use  of  the 
school  property  produces  in  the  minds  of  both  old  and  young  a  sense 
of  greater  responsibility  for  its  protection  from  all  sorts  of  damage. 
But  whether  this  be  found  to  be  fully  so  or  not  in  every  locality,  it 
would  at  least  be  probable  that  the  social  service  rendered  would  be 
out  of  all  proportion  to  the  additional  cost.  In  fact,  the  cost  to  the 
community  will  be  much  less  if  these  things  are  attempted  through 
the  school  plant  than  if  they  are  attempted  through  a  separate  and 
independent  investment. 


94  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

The  question  may  occur  to  some  as  to  whether  this  social  center 
work,  necessary  though  it  be,  is  properly  educational;  that  is,  whether 
it  can  really  be  included  within  the  so-called  extensions  of  present- 
day  school  activity,  or  whether  it  is  not  more  or  less  adventitious  to 
education,  even  in  the  liberal  interpretation  of  that  function.  It  may 
be  urged  that  the  linking  of  social  center  work  with  the  narrower 
teaching  functions  of  the  school  is  external  and  accidental,  merely 
the  outcome  of  the  fact  that  the  school  building  is  at  hand  and  is  con- 
venient for  use  in  this  additional  manner.  Such  a  view,  however,  is 
superficial  and  does  not  take  into  account  the  fact  that  in  a  progres- 
sive society  the  duties  of  educational  agencies  and  the  scope  of  edu- 
cational theory  must  also  grow  in  both  extension  and  intension.  Such 
services  are  certainly  in  accord  with  the  larger  conception  of  educa- 
tion current  to-day;  namely,  that  the  school  should,  as  far  as  lies  within 
its  power,  extend  its  teaching  function  to  the  community  at  large,  by 
providing  for  special  classes  and  systematic  lecture  courses  along  the 
lines  of  vital  community  interests  and  needs ;  by  providing  opportu- 
nity for  vocational  training  and  vocational  direction  even  for  adults. 
Moreover,  if  the  informational  activities  of  the  school  may  be  properly 
extended  to  the  community  at  large,  may  not  other  phases  of  the 
work  of  the  school?  Thus,  it  is  a  part  of  the  work  of  the  school  to 
make  some  provision  for  recreation  and  physical  training,  to  pro- 
vide children  with  adequate  opportunity  for  healthful  social  inter- 
course, to  cultivate  good  habits  and  right  moral  ideals.  All  of  these 
are  recognized  aspects  of  the  education  of  the  children  of  the  commu- 
nity. If  it  is  legitimate  to  extend  in  any  way  the  scope  of  school  activi- 
ties, it  would  seem  both  logical  and  legitimate  that  these  should  be 
made  to  include  as  far  as  possible  some  provision  for  recreation,  physi- 
cal, educational  and  healthful  social  intercourse,  both  for  adults  and 
for  children. 

Of  course  there  is  no  intrinsic  reason  why  these  services  may  not 
be  performed  by  a  variety  of  agencies.  In  fact,  there  are  other  agents 
at  work  along  these  lines,  but  none  of  them  are  so  widespread  or  prom- 
ise to  be  so  generally  acceptable  to  all  classes  as  those  which  may  oper- 
ate under  the  auspices  of  the  public  schools.  That  this  work  has  fallen 
to  the  schools  seems  in  large  measure  to  be  due  to  the  readiness  of 
the  school  to  respond  to  the  growing  demand  on  the  part  of  the  com- 


THE   SCHOOL  AS  A   CENTER  OF  SOCIAL  LIFE          95 

munity  coupled  with  the  recognition  that  the  doing  of  such  things 
is  in  line  with  the  broader  conception  of  education.  Nor  can  any 
other  agency  do  the  work  so  effectively  and  so  easily  as  can  the  school. 
In  the  first  place,  as  we  have  said,  it  has  the  material  equipment  largely 
in  readiness.  There  are  the  gymnasiums,  halls,  libraries,  shops  and 
laboratories,  all  of  which  are  admirably  adapted  to  just  such  uses. 
Furthermore,  the  school  is  a  natural  spiritual  center  for  the  commu- 
nity. It  is  where  the  children  spend  a  large  portion  of  the  day.  The 
interests  engendered  there  are  often  carried  back  and  discussed  in  the 
home.  A  certain  common  interest  in  the  school  and  its  work  is  thus 
the  only  existing  point  of  contact  between  the  majority  of  the  members 
of  the  community.  It  thus  becomes  a  place  toward  which  all  may 
naturally  turn,  and  which  can  more  effectively  than  any  other  agency 
unite  the  community  in  a  healthful  social  life. 

It  is  true  that  only  a  few  schools  are  beginning  to  realize  these  pos- 
sibilities, but  there  is  an  unquestionable  movement  in  the  direction 
here  indicated.  The  attempt  has  been  to  show  that  the  movement 
is  legitimate  as  well  as  desirable,  and  that  it  can  hardly  be  classed  as 
merely  a  passing  fad. 

The  social  center  work,  which  has  thus  far  developed  naturally, 
varies  greatly  in  its  scope  and  details  from  city  to  city.  In  some  lo- 
calities, as  in  Rochester,  New  York,  the  object  has  been  to  develop  a 
higher  civic  life  among  the  adult  members  of  the  community. 

Boston  was  a  pioneer  in  social  center  work  of  another  type,  it  having 
been  initiated  there  in  1899.  Many  other  cities  have  followed  suit, 
notable  among  which  are  Milwaukee,  Columbus,  Cleveland,  Chicago. 
In  some  cases  the  initial  cost  has  been  met  by  private  subscriptions, 
often  raised  by  women's  clubs.  Later  the  school  boards  have  taken 
up  the  work.  In  these  latter  places  the  work  is  still  confined  largely 
to  the  children  and  youth,  it  being  the  purpose  of  the  social  center  to 
furnish  opportunity  for  the  young  people  to  have  suitable  places  for 
recreation  and  social  intercourse,  and  afford  rooms  for  clubs  of  all 
sorts.  It  was  in  the  opening  of  certain  school  buildings  in  New  York 
City  to  boys'  and  girls'  clubs  in  1897  that  the  work  was  started  there. 
The  aspects  of  the  work  are  so  diversified  that  it  will  be  more  satis- 
factory to  consult  the  accounts  of  it  referred  to  in  the  Bibliography 
than  to  attempt  a  brief  and  necessarily  abstract  summary  of  it  here. 


96  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 


BIBLIOGRAPHY  ON  THE  SCHOOL  AS  A  SOCIAL  CENTER 

BROWN,  E.  E.  "Some  uses  of  the  public  schoolhouse,"  Playground, 
4 : 393-403.  Evidences  of  the  new  appreciation  of  sociability. 

BUCK,  WINIFRED.     "Work  and  play  in  the  public  schools,"  Outlook, 

80 :  725-732,  June  I2,  i905- 
BUCKLEY,  W.  L.     "The  school  as  a  social  center,"  Charities,  15 :  76-78. 

BURNS,  R.  L.     "Schools  as  community  centers,"  Pa.  Sch.  Jour., 

57:  49°~492,  i9°9- 
DEWEY,  JOHN.     "The  school  as  a  social  center,"  N.  E.  A.,  1902,  p.  373. 

Statement  of  general  principles  underlying  problem  of  socializing 

education.     Reprinted  in  this  section. 

ELIOT,  C.  W.  "The  full  utilization  of  a  public  school  plant,"  N.  E.  A ., 
1903,  pp.  241-247.  Money  invested  in  schools  should  be  utilized 
more  fully;  results  are  good  from  both  moral  and  economic 
standpoint. 

GOVE,  AARON.  "Proper  use  of  schoolhouses,"  N.  E.  A.,  1897,  p.  253. 
Public  money  should  be  used  for  instruction  of  adults  as  well 
as  children ;  practical  suggestions  for  extending  use  of  both  rural 
and  urban  schools. 

GRISWOLD,  F.  K.  "The  open  schoolhouse:  its  part  in  the  vacation 
of  the  stay-at-home,"  El.  S.  T.,  9:  517,  1909. 

MONTGOMERY,  LOUISE.  "Social  work  of  the  Hamline  School,"  El. 
S.  T1.,  8:113.  Mothers7  organization;  building  open  , once  a 
month  to  public;  children's  clubs;  gardens,  excursions,  etc. 

Mo  WRY,  DUANE.  "Use  of  schoolhouses  for  other  than  school  pur- 
poses," Ed.,  29:  92.  School  a  true  center  of  community;  com- 
mon property;  fosters  local  interest;  trains  citizens;  has  a 
spiritualizing  influence. 

NELIGH,  CLARA  D.  "The  school  as  a  social  and  industrial  center," 
Southern  Workman,  36:604-612.  November,  1907. 

PAULDING,  J.  K.  "The  public  school  as  a  center  of  community 
life,"  Ed.  Rev.,  15 : 147-154,  February,  1898. 

PERINE,  M.  L.  "The  institutional  school,"  S.  Rev.,  17  :  344.  Quite 
general:  emphasizes  the  need  for. 

PERRY,  C.  A.  The  Wider  Use  of  the  School  Plant.  Russell  Sage 
Foundation,  1910.  Most  complete  account  published  of  the 
various  "wider  uses."  A  statement  of  facts. 

"The  community  used  school,"  N.  S.  S.  E.,  Pt.  I,  64-72.     1911. 


THE  SCHOOL  AS  A  CENTER  OF  SOCIAL  LIFE          97 

RILEY,  T.  J.  "Increased  use  of  public  school  property,"  Am.  Jour. 
Soc.,  March,  1906,  p.  655.  Need  of  furnishing  those  who  have 
left  school  with  social  and  educational  opportunities. 

ROBBINS,  JANE  E.  "The  settlement  and  the  public  school,"  Outlook, 
95 :  785,  August  6,  1910. 

"Schools  as  social  centers,"  Independent,  57:110.  Consolida- 
tion of  district  schools  into  town  schools  involves  problem  of 
school  garden  system  and  of  training  for  social  duties. 

"Social  centers  in  the  Columbus  schools,"  Survey,  23:696-697. 

1910.  Started  in  1906 ;  extension  society,  athletic  clubs,  in- 
terest increases,  broader  work  planned  for  future. 

"Social   center  work   in   Milwaukee,"   Charities,    21:441-443. 

Sought  by  people;  social,  economic,  musical,  and  literary  clubs, 
gymnastic  classes,  city  charter  amended,  mode  of  administration. 

?PARGO,  J.  "Social  service  of  a  city  school,"  Craftsman,  10 :  605-613. 
School  cannot  rest  with  merely  imparting  knowledge  in  this  day 
of  social  unrest. 

5TITT,  E.  W.     "Evening  recreation  centers,"  N.  S.  S.  E.,  Pt.  i,  39-50. 

STOKES,  J.  G.  P.  "Public  schools  as  social  centers,"  An.  Am.  Acad., 
23 : 457-463.  1904.  Defects  in  our  educational  system  have 
contributed  to  social  maladjustments;  what  schools  may  and 
are  doing. 

,  EDWARD  J.     Rochester  Social  Centers  and  Civic  Clubs:    The 
story  of  the  F$rst  Two  Years.     Extracts  reprinted  in  this  section. 

—  "The  Rochester  social  centers,"   The  Playground  Association, 
Proceedings,  3  :  387-395.     1910. 

"The  little  red  schoolhouse,"  Survey,  22:640-649,  August  7, 

1909. 

"The  modern  social  center  revival,"  2?he  Playground,  4:403. 

A  convenient  summary  of  the  papers  and  addresses  given  at  the 
annual  meeting  of  the  National  Municipal  League,  November, 
1910. 

VESTON,  OLIVE  E.  "The  school  as  a  social  center,"  El.  S.  T.,  6 : 108. 
School  building  should  always  be  at  service  of  people. 

HELEN  K.  "Social  centers,"  The  Playground,  2:14-18. 
December,  1908.  Use  of  school  buildings  in  a  certain  city  for 
home  and  school  associations. 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE   SOCIAL   NEED   FOR   CONTINUING  THE   EDUCATION   OF    TH£    ADULT 

School  Extension  and  Adult  Education 

THE  extension  of  the  use  of  the  school  on  the  lines  to  which  I  have 
referred  has,  in  the  city  of  New  York,  been  even  further  broadened. 
It  is  believed  that  education  is  required  not  alone  as  a  means  of  liveli- 
hood, but  as  a  means  of  life;  and  that  as  Bishop  Spaulding  says, 
"  The  wise  and  the  good  are  they  who  grow  old  still  learning  many 
things,  entering  day  by  day  into  more  vital  communion  with  beauty, 
truth,  and  righteousness." 

It  is  the  belief  in  this  theory  that  has  led  the  city  of  New  Yor 
to  include  in  its  conception  of  the  school  a  provision  for  adult  educ 
tion.  Its  underlying  principle  is  that  education  must  be  unending 
The  city's  prosperity  and  growth  depend  on  the  intelligence  of  it 
citizens,  and  as  we  have  come  to  realize  that  the  child  is  of  supreme 
importance,  so  have  we  also  arrived  slowly  at  the  conclusion  that  he 
who  from  necessity  has  remained  a  child  in  education,  needs  continuous 
instruction. 

A  librarian  once  told  me  that  a  young  reader  came  into  her  library 
and  said  he  wished  a  book  entitled  "  How  to  Get  Educated  and  How 
to  Stay  So."  He  unconsciously  spoke  a  great  truth.  It  is  one  thing 
to  get  educated ;  it  is  another  to  stay  so.  The  school  gives  the  begin- 
ning of  education.  Provision  for  adult  education  is  necessary  to 
enable  us  "  to  stay  so."  Of  the  school  population  in  our  land,  about 
three  per  cent  attend  high  schools,  and  less  than  one  and  one  half  per 
cent  the  colleges,  universities,  and  professional  schools. ,  The  great 
body  of  our  citizens  have  but  limited  education  ;  and  the  very  persons 
best  fitted  to  profit  by  education  and  who  need  it  most  are  in  most 
cases  denied  its  beneficent  influence.  Two  classes  are  especially  in 
need  of  it ;  first,  those  between  fourteen  and  twenty  years,  the  time 
of  adolescence,  when  conscience  is  disturbed  and  when  character  is 
being  formed;  at  that  time  all  the  safeguards  of  true  culture  must  be 
around  youth ;  and  then  there  is  a  large  class  of  mature  people  who 
have  a  knowledge  of  practical  life  and  who  appreciate  the  value  of 
education  most  keenly.  It  is  from  such  a  class  that  our  students  - 

98 


SOCIAL  NEED  FOR  CONTINUING  EDUCATION  OF  ADULT 


99 


I  call  them  that  rightly  —  of  electricity,  of  physics,  of  history,  are 
recruited.  A  lecturer  on  physics  wrote  to  me  the  other  day,  "  The 
questions  put  to  me  by  my  hearers  were,  as  a  rule,  more  intelligent 
than  are  asked  in  many  a  college." 

Sixteen  years1  ago  the  Free  Lecture  movement  was  tentatively 
begun  in  New  York  in  six  schoolhouses.  The  total  attendance  was 
about  20,000.  During  the  past  year  there  were  140  places  where 
systematic  courses  of  lectures  were  given  by  450  lecturers,  and  there 
came  an  attendance  of  1,155,000.  The  growth  indicated  by  the 
figures  which  I  have  just  quoted  must  lead  to  the  conclusion  that  this 
democratic  movement  for  adult  education  is  appreciated  by  a  con- 
stantly increasing  body  of  our  citizens.  The  large  number  who  have 
attended  this  year  prove  that  the  appetite  for  instruction  on  the  part 
of  the  people  has  not  been  appeased,  but  that,  like  all  good  things, 
appetite  comes  with  eating.  As  a  rule,  we  should  not  boast  of  mere 
Digness ;  but  the  fact  that  in  the  city  of  New  York,  including,  as  it 
does,  all  sorts  and  conditions  of  men  and  women,  so  large  a  number 
of  persons,  many  of  them  old,  wend  their  way,  and  in  many  instances, 
climb  toilsome  flights  of  stairs  to  the  halls  of  instruction,  is  an  admi- 
rable sign  of  the  times.  What  is  the  magic  power  that  draws  to  these 
lalls  —  some  of  them  far  from  comfortable  —  no  matter  in  what 
dnd  of  weather,  so  many  earnest  listeners?  The  answer  is  that  the 
common  sense  of  our  people  is  truly  appreciative  of  the  best  that  the 
teacher  can  give,  and  in  these  courses  it  has  been  the  endeavor  to  give 
the  people  the  best  available  from  the  staff  of  lecturers  at  our  command. 

It  can  be  safely  said  that  the  movement  for  adult  education,  popu- 
larly  known  as  the  free  lectures,  is  no  longer  an  experiment.  It  is 
recognized  in  the  charter  as  an  integral  part  of  the  educational  system 
of  the  city  of  New  York.  Its  righteous  claim  to  be  considered  such 
s  shown  by  the  constant  endeavors  to  systematically  organize  the 
instruction.  In  the  first  years  of  the  lecture  course,  the  lectures  were 
not  organized  as  consecutively  as  they  are  now.  We  know  now  defi- 
nitely what  our  aim  is.  A  passenger  on  the  elevated  train  in  Boston, 
somewhat  the  worse  for  drink,  was  carried  around  the  entire  system 
twice,  not  knowing  where  to  disembark.  Finally,  the  conductor 
said  to  him :  "  At  what  station  do  you  want  to  get  off?  "  The  man 
aroused  himself  sufficiently  to  say,  "  What  stations  have  you  got?  " 
Some  years  ago  we  were  in  doubt  as  to  what  our  stations  were.  Now 
we  have  found  our  definite  station  —  the  definite  purpose  is  to  arrange 
these  courses  of  lectures  systematically  to  stimulate  study,  to  cooper- 
ate with  the  public  library,  to  encourage  discussion;  or,  in  other 

1  This  address  was  delivered  in  1905.  For  current  statistics  the  student  should  consult 
the  latest  reports  of  the  free  lecture  system.  The  principles  here  stated  are  as  true  now  as 
ever. 


zoo  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

words,  to  bring  the  best  teachers  to  bear  upon  this  problem  of  the 
diffusion  of  culture  among  all  citizens  of  a  great  city.  Has  this  been 
done  during  the  past  year?  One  hundred  and  seventy  courses  of 
lectures,  averaging  six  in  each  course,  have  been  given,  and  the  ma- 
jority of  these  courses  by  professors  and  teachers  in  our  universities. 
One  course  of  thirty  lectures  on  nineteenth  century  English  Litera- 
ture was  given  in  a  series  lasting  through  the  whole  winter  at  one 
center,  and  the  audience  at  each  lecture  averaged  over  300.  An 
examination  was  held  and  certificates  were  awarded  to  those  who  had 
attended  at  least  twenty-seven  of  these  lectures  and  who  had  success- 
fully passed  two  written  examinations  which  were  held.  Thirty-one 
received  certificates,  approved  by  Columbia  University.  Thus  we 
have  university  extension  realized  on  a  large  scale. 

Thirty  courses  of  lectures,  consisting  of  five  each,  on  "  First  Aid  to 
the  Injured,"  were  given,  examinations  held  and  certificates  awarded. 
To  cooperate  with  the  Department  of  Health,  lectures  on  "The  Pre- 
vention of  Tuberculosis  "  were  given  in  thirty-four  places  by  reputable 
physicans,  so  that  the  themes  which  have  instructed  our  audiences 
have  been  first  the  facts  concerning  the  body  and  its  care. 

Then  the  great  phenomena  of  natural  science  have  been  explained 
—  how  steam  was  harnessed,  how  electricity  is  put  to  man's  service 
how  the  stars  move  in  their  courses.     The  whole  world  has  beer 
traveled  over.     Starting  from  our  own  city,  the  natural  beauties  o 
our  own  land  have  been  described.     Every  country  on  the  globe 
from  Greenland's  icy  mountains  to  India's  coral  strand,  has  beei 
described  by  travelers  who  have  visited  these  lands  and  have  bravec 
the   dangers   for  our  instruction.     The   development   of   citizenship 
has  been  fostered  by  scholarly  treatment  of  the  great  epochs  in  our 
national  history  and  the  study  of  the  makers  of  our  national  life ;  and 
to  give  a  wider  outlook,  epochs  in  general  history  have  been  boldly 
outlined,  for  the  history  of  the  world  is  one  great  drama,  and  all  it 
acts  form  part  of  one  stupendous  whole.     Music,  painting  and  othe 
forms  of  art  have  been  presented  to  the  people,  and  courses  on  the 
education  and  training  of  children,  as  well  as  municipal  progress 
have  been  listened  to  by  eager  auditors ;   for  the  purpose,  as  statec 
before,  is  to  aid  the  joy  and  value  of  human  life  by  diffusing  amonj 
the  mass  of  our  citizens  what  some  one  has  well  called  "  race  knowl 
edge." 

The  level  of  our  citizenship  depends  upon  the  quantity  of  rac 
knowledge  which  is  made  a  concrete  part  of  our  social  environment. 

It  has  been  my  privilege  to  receive,  year  by  year,  appreciativ 
letters  from  both  lecturers  and  auditors  —  the  lecturer  emphasizing 
the  value  of  the  experience  in  its  growth  and  power,  the  auditor 
telling  of  the  inspiration  and  stimulus  derived  from  the  lectures. 


SOCIAL  NEED  FOR  CONTINUING  EDUCATION  OF  ADULT  101 

A  college  graduate  writes : 

"  I  believe  there  are  many  who  think  the  lectures  are  only  for  those 
who  have  not  had  an  opportunity  to  receive  a  high  school  or  college 
education.  The  more  intelligent  the  hearer,  the  greater  the  benefit 
derived.  As  to  the  benefits  received  from  these  courses,  they  are  too 
numerous  to  mention,  but  I  can  gladly  say  that  through  my  knowl- 
edge of  '  First  Aid  to  the  Injured/  I  have  been  of  use  to  different 
persons  from  taking  a  cinder  out  of  the  eye  of  an  elevated  conductor 
to  fixing  up  the  sprain  of  a  friend." 

Another  writes :  — 

"  The  majority  of  us  know  nothing  but  paved  streets  and  brick 
walls.  Nature  stands  at  our  doors,  but  we  know  nothing  of  her. 
These  lectures  give  us  instruction  and  mental  exhilaration." 

And  yet  another  auditor  writes :  — 

"  I  shall  try  my  best  to  pass  the  examination  (referring  to  a  course 
on  'First  Aid  to  the  Injured'),  although  I  am  very  absent-minded 
and  nervous,  having  been  a  victim  of  typhoid  fever  a  year  ago  and  a 
remittent  fever  last  fall.  If  I  fail,  I  shall  have  at  least  tried  my  best 
and  learned  something  to  my  advantage.  I  cannot  say  anything  in 
favor  of  the  Monday  lectures,  as  my  husband  only  attends  them,  be- 
cause I  have  three  small  children  who  cannot  be  left  alone.  I  am 
I  glad  my  beloved  spouse  stays  with  them  Thursday  evenings  to  grant 
me  the  benefit  of  the  lectures." 

The  fact  has  been  established  that  the  people  will  go  to  school ; 
so  that  there  are  now  two  kinds  of  lectures  —  one  for  larger  audiences, 
where  subjects  which  appeal  to  large  bodies  can  be  treated;  and  the 
other  more  special  in  its  nature,  where  those  who  come  are  only  inter- 
ested in  a  particular  subject.  The  entire  winter  at  some  centers  is 
devoted  to  but  one  or  two  subjects,  and  a  definite  course  of  reading  and 
study  follow.  The  division  satisfies  those  who  are  already  prepared 
for  higher  study  and  those  who  are  just  entering  upon  an  appreciation 
of  intellectual  pleasure,  for,  believing  as  I  do  in  the  educational 
purpose  and  value  of  these  courses,  I  also  believe  to  an  extent  in  their 
wisdom  from  the  recreative  side.  The  character  of  our  pleasure  is 
an  index  of  our  culture  and  our  civilization.  A  nation  whose  favorite 
pastime  is  the  bullfight  is  hardly  on  a  plane  with  one  that  finds  pleas- 
ure in  the  lecture  lyceum ;  so,  if  we  can  make  our  pleasure  consist 
I  in  the  delights  of  art,  in  the  beauties  of  literature,  in  the  pursuit  of 
science,  or  in  the  cultivation  of  music,  are  we  not  doing  a  real  public 
I  service?  Is  not  refinement,  too,  one  of  the  ends  for  which  we  are 
[aiming —  not  alone  knowledge,  but  culture;  not  alone  light,  but 
sweetness?  And  if  we  can  turn  our  youth  from  the  street  corners  to 
ijthe  school  playground,  transformed  into  a  temple  of  learning,  are  we 
not  helping  to  attain  a  desirable  end? 


102  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

To  some,  these  lectures  have  proved  the  only  bright  spot  in  a  cheer- 
less existence;  others  have  been  greatly  refined  through  their  influ- 
ence. After  the  lecture,  many  have  crowded  around  the  lecturer  for 
further  information,  and  upon  reaching  their  homes,  their  conversa- 
tion has  not  been  the  tittle-tattle  of  everyday  life,  but  about  Shake- 
speare, Lincoln,  the  Arctic  explorations,  or  the  wonders  of  electricity. 
Many  a  mind  has  been  stirred  from  its  lethargy;  and  the  lecturers 
have  appealed  to  all  classes  of  our  citizens  —  the  dweller  in  the  tene- 
ment house  or  in  the  single  house  —  for  their  message  is  to  rich  and  to 
poor,  man  and  woman,  young  and  old,  educated  and  uneducated. 
They  show  parents  what  a  valuable  thing  education  is,  and  the  parents 
become  attached  to  the  school.  They  are  social  solvents,  for  the 
school  is  a  safeguard  of  democracy,  and  at  these  lectures  the  laborer 
and  employer,  the  professional  man  and  the  mechanic,  attend.  More 
has  been  done,  for  these  lectures  have  been,  to  many,  voices  in  the 
wilderness  giving  aid  and  comfort  to  many  an  aspiring  soul  and 
revealing  to  it  its  own  strength,  for  many  a  poorly  dressed  man  may 
have  in  him  the  germ  of  gifts  which  it  would  be  well  to  add  to  the 
j  treasury  of  noble  deeds. 

Summarizing  again  the  aims  of  this  movement,  I  would  say  that  it 
is  to  afford  to  as  many  as  possible  the  fruits  of  a  liberal  education, 
to  make  education  a  life  purpose,  to  apply  the  best  methods  of  study 
to  the  problems  of  daily  life,  so  as  to  create  in  our  citizens  a  sound 
public  opinion.  When  it  is  remembered  that  a  million  and  a  half  men, 
according  to  the  last  census,  of  voting  age  were  unable  to  read  or  write 
—  that  is,  1 1  per  cent  of  the  total  number  —  it  will  be  seen  how  im- 
portant the  continuance  of  education  is  in  a  country  whose  government 
is  determined  by  popular  suffrage.  And  the  greater  portion  of  this 
illiteracy,  let  it  be  borne  in  mind,  is  in  persons  not  of  foreign  parentage. 
The  percentage  of  illiteracy  among  the  foreign  born  is  large,  but  among 
the  native  born  of  foreign  parents  it  is  smaller  than  among  those  of 
native  parents.  And  this  leads  me  to  refer  to  the  addition  to  our 
course  in  the  shape  of  lectures  in  foreign  languages  to  recently  arrived 
immigrants.  Nothing  is  more  illustrative  of  the  hospitality  of  our 
city  than  is  this  provision  for  acquaintanceship  of  future  citizens,  at 
the  earliest  possible  moment,  with  the  history  of  our  institutions  and 
the  laws  of  civic  well-being. 

The  lectures  are  illustrated  largely  by  the  stereopticon,  and  this 
teaching  of  the  eye  has  proven  a  most  effective  means  of  popularizing 
knowledge  and  retaining  interest.  Mere  speech  is  no  longer  suffi- 
cient. The  actual  thing  talked  about  must  be  shown  on  the  screen. 
In  scientific  lectures,  abundant  experiments  accompany  the  lecture, 
and  the  interest  in  scientific  subjects  can  be  illustrated  by  the  fact 
that  a  course  of  eight  lectures  on  "  Heat  as  a  Mode  of  Motion  "  in  the 


SOCIAL  NEED  FOR  CONTINUING  EDUCATION  OF  ADULT  103 

(great  hall  of  Cooper  Institute  attracted  an  average  audience  of  1000  at 
leach  lecture.  The  lecture  was  followed  by  a  quiz  class,  which  lasted 
jabout  an  hour,  and  serious  reading  of  such  a  book  as  TyndalPs  "  Heat 
|as  a  Mode  of  Motion  "  was  done  by  many  of  the  auditors. 

Special  attention  is  paid  to  instruction  in  American  history  and 
I  civics.  On  the  birthdays  of  great  Americans,  in  several  portions  of 
the  city,  the  lives  of  these  eminent  characters  form  the  subject  of  the 
Illecture ;  and  during  the  past  two  years,  in  order  to  help  in  the  assimi- 
lation of  the  newly  arrived  foreigner,  lectures  have  been  given  in  Italian 
and  Yiddish  on  subjects  that  relate  to  sanitation  and  to  the  prepara- 
tion for  American  citizenship. 

The  lecturers  are  recruited  from  the  very  best  educators  available. 
[Our  lecturers  include  the  professors  in  our  universities,  the  traveler, 
I  the  journalist,  the  physician,  the  clergyman  —  and  the  fine  spirit  that 
characterizes  our  teaching  force  is  worthy  of  emulation  by  all  who 
are  engaged  in  the  noble  work  of  education.     It  seems  to  me  that  n$ 
more  honorable,  and  perhaps  more  difficult,  task  can  be  placed  in  the 
hands  of  a  teacher  who  stands  before  audiences  such  as  gather  in  our 
ischoolhouses,  for  I  know  of  no  more  sacred  task  than  that  of  a  teacher 
in  a  democracy,  organizing  as  he  does  public  opinion,  directing  read- 
ling,  and  inspiring  for  the  higher  life.    The  ideal  teacher  in  a  scheme  of 
:|  adult  education,  as  some  one  says,  must  combine  with  the  university 
professor's  knowledge  the  novelist's  versatility,  the  actor's  elocution, 
I  the  poet's  imagination,  and  the  preacher's  fervor. 

Adult  education  as  practiced  in  New  Y«rk  combines  the  best  ele- 
ments of  university  extension  and  reaches  the  working  people  of  the 
city.     It  has  been  the  means  of  realizing  the  belief  that  scholarship 
must  go  hand  in  hand  with  service,  and  that  the  duty  of  the  university 
j  to  the  city  and  the  state  is  to  lift  our  citizens  to  higher  ideals. 

The  influence  of  the  lectures  on  general  reading  is  illustrated  by  the 

report  from  one  public  library,  concerning  which  the  librarian  writes : 

"The  register  shows  an  increase  of  321  members  during  the  course 

j  of  the  winter  lecture  season,  of  which  a  large  portion  consisted  of 

I  those  who  had  first  heard  of  the  library  in  the  lecture  hall.     As  a 

j  result,  the  people  select  their  books  with  more  care  and  forethought, 

i  having  something  definite  to  ask  for,  and  on  a  subject  in  which  their 

interest  was  aroused.    A  stimulus  was  created  which  led  to  more 

intelligent  reading.     You  cannot  expect  all  the  people  to  appreciate 

and  thoroughly  enjoy  a  book  until  they  know  something  akin  to  that 

subject  and  until  their  enthusiasm  has  been  aroused." 

This  is  what  I  feel  the  lectures  are  doing  for  those  who  have  not  had  a 

'  school  course.     The  platform  library  forms  an  integral  part  of  the 

j  lecture  movement.     As  the  libraries  do  not  possess  sufficient  duplicate 

copies  of  any  particular  book,  there  are  loaned  out  to  those  who  attend 


104  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

the  courses,  the  leading  books  that  are  mentioned  on  the  syllabus 
which  is  distributed  with  each  course  of  lectures  ;  and  the  circulation 
of  these  books  bespeaks  the  intelligent  pursuit  of  the  subject  in 
hand. 

The  movement  of  adult  education  not  alone  gives  a  new  interpre- 
tation to  education  and  the  teacher,  but  a  new  type  of  schoolhouse 
which  is  to  be  open  not  only  for  a  few  hours  daily,  but  at  all  times 
and  to  be  a  place  not  alone  for  the  instruction  of  children,  but  for  the 
education  of  men  and  women ;  so  that  there  should  be  in  each  modern 
schoolhouse  proper  auditorium,  with  seats  for  adults  and  equippec 
with  apparatus  for  scientific  lectures,  and  for  proper  means  of  illus- 
tration. 

There  should  be  no  necessity  for  citizens,  desiring  to  add  to  their 
culture,  sitting  in  the  low  and  ill-ventilated  and  unattractive  school- 
room, or  climbing  sixty  or  seventy  steps  to  sit  upon  a  bench  intendec 
«nly  for  children.  So  a  change  in  the  construction  of  our  schoolhouses 
may  result  from  the  expansion  of  this  use.  The  newer  schoolhouses 
built  in  our  city  contain  such  auditoriums ;  and  the  extension  of  the 
school  for  these  varied  purposes  makes  the  schoolhouse  what 
really  should  be  —  a  social  center  —  the  real,  democratic  neighbor- 
hood house.  That  we  are  approaching  such  an  ideal  may  be  inferrec 
from  the  fact  that  some  of  the  schoolhouses  in  the  crowded  districts 
are  open  on  Sunday.  If  the  museum  and  the  library  are  open  on 
Sunday,  why  should  not  the  schoolhouse,  too,  be  open  on  Sunday, 
and  in  its  main  hall  the  people  be  gathered  to  listen  to  an  uplifting 
address  of  a  biographical,  historical,  or  ethical  nature? 

It  seems  to  me  that  the  tendency  should  be  to  include  in  public 
education  all  that  is  best  in  the  movements  of  philanthropy  which 
mark  our  time.  The  interest  of  churches  and  philanthropic  societies 
in  our  work  is  shown  by  the  constant  offering  of  church  and  other  halls 
gratuitously  for  Board  of  Education  public  lectures.  The  church 
surely  approves  of  spreading  the  gospel,  "  Let  there  be  light." 

The  unification  of  a  great  city  is  furthered  by  a  system  of  public 
lectures.  It  is  not  brought  about  by  the  mere  building  of  bridges. 
In  a  great  city,  neighborliness  does  not  often  prevail,  but  a  community 
of  ideas  brings  people  together;  and  when  last  year  it  was  resolved 
to  celebrate  the  two  hundred  and  fiftieth  anniversary  of  the  founding 
of  New  York  as  a  municipality,  it  was  celebrated  not  by  a  military 
parade  or  a  monster  banquet,  but  by  a  series  of  illustrated  lectures  and 
open  air  exhibitions  of  the  great  development  of  New  York  City. 
About  one  hundred  such  lectures  were  given,  illustrating  the  history 
of  the  city  of  New  York  —  thirty  of  them  in  public  parks.  As  New 
York  is  the  pioneer  in  this  work  of  adult  education,  so  is  she  the 
pioneer  in  this  peaceful  method  of  civic  celebration. 


SOCIAL  NEED  FOR  CONTINUING  EDUCATION  OF  ADULT  105 

The  provision  for  adult  education  emphasizes  the  fact  which  now, 
more  than  ever,  should  be  emphasized  in  our  American  life  —  that 
men  are  not  old  at  forty.  Dr.  Osier,  deserving  of  so  much  credit,  has 
certainly  done  a  great  public  service  in  awakening  discussion  on  the 
question  of  the  period  of  man's  mental  decay.  What  is  needed  in 
America,  it  seems  to  me,  is  more,  not  less,  reverence  for  age ;  more,  not 
less,  recognition  of  the  fact  that  though  there  may  be  a  climax  to 
man's  bodily  development  in  early  manhood,  his  mental  develop- 
ment should  be  continuous,  and  as  President  Eliot  says,  "  His  last 
years  should  be  his  best.''  Scientists  tell  us  that  the  brain  of  a  man 
between  fifty  and  sixty  is  at  its  best,  and  even  at  sixty  the  acqui- 
sition of  knowledge  may  well  be  begun. 

The  history  of  the  world  of  the  past  and  the  present  day  is  full  of 
illustrations  of  the  activities  of  old  men,  and  no  one  has  put  it  better 
than  Longfellow  in  these  words :  — 

"But  why,  you  ask  me,  should  this  tale  be  told, 
To  men  grown  old,  or  who  are  growing  old  ? 
It  is  too  late  !    Ah,  nothing  is  too  late 
Till  the  tired  heart  shall  cease  to  palpitate. 
Cato  learned  Greek  at  eighty,  Sophocles 
Wrote  his  grand  CEdipus,  and  Simonides 
Bore  off  the  prize  of  verse  from  his  compeers, 
When  each  had  numbered  more  than  fourscore  years ; 
And  Theophrastus,  at  fourscore  and  ten, 
Had  begun  his  '  Characters  of  Men' 
Chaucer,  at  Woodstock,  with  the  nightingales, 
At  sixty  wrote  the  '  Canterbury  Tales,' 
Goethe,  at  Weimar,  toiling  to  the  last, 
Completed  l  Faust '  when  eighty  years  were  past. 
These  are  indeed  exceptions,  but  they  show 
How  far  the  gulf  stream  of  our  youth  may  flow 
Into  the  arctic  regions  of  our  lives, 
Where  little  else  than  life  survives." 

Summing  up  the  value  of  this  movement,  it  may  be  said  that  it 
brings  culture  in  touch  with  the  uncultured,  it  gives  a  new  meaning 
to  the  uses  and  possibilities  of  the  schoolhouse,  and  not  alone  adds 
to  the  stock  of  information  of  the  people,  but  furnishes  them  with 
ideas.  In  these  days  of  shorter  hours  and  larger  opportunities,  the 
toilers  will  find  in  adult  education  the  stimulus  for  the  gratifica- 
tion of  their  intellectual  desires,  and  a  larger  world  is  given  them  in 
which  to  live.  The  best  characters  in  literature  will  influence  them, 
their  daily  labor  will  be  dignified,  new  joy  will  come  into  their 
lives  from  this  association  with  science,  literature  and  art;  and 
they  will  find  that  true  happiness  does  not  come  from  -wealth,  but 


io6  SOCIAL  ASPECTS   OF  EDUCATION 

from  sympathy  with  the  best  things  in  art,  and  with  the  love  of 
nature. 

The  public  school  is  becoming  recognized  throughout  our  country 
as  the  most  efficient  form  of  training  for  intelligent  democracy. 
Despite  the  criticisms  of  the  public  school,  the  constant  trend  of  the 
morale  of  the  American  people  is  upward,  due  to  its  influence,  and  if 
the  public  school  has  failed  to  become  the  absolute  panacea  that  the 
idealists  would  desire,  is  it  not  largely  because  of  the  failure  to  provide 
for  education  sufficient  funds  to  bring  about  the  desired  results? 
The  public  school  should  occupy  the  most  beautiful  building  in  the 
town,  and  the  teachers  in  the  public  school  should  be  men  and  women 
of  the  finest  intelligence,  the  highest  culture,  and  occupy  the  highest 
social  position.  When  such  conditions  prevail,  when  popular  appre- 
ciation indicates  that  the  highest  service  that  one  can  perform  is  in  the 
service  of  teaching,  then  indeed  will  the  public  school  become  what 
the  vision  of  the  dreamer  would  have  it  realize.  The  public  school 
building  of  the  present  day,  architecturally  beautiful,  with  improved 
sanitation,  with  provision  for  physical  development,  and  with  its 
auditorium  for  lectures,  is  in  a  fair  way  toward  bringing  near  that 
ideal,  so  well  described  in  the  words  of  Mr.  Page :  "  We  must  make  the 
public  school  everybody's  house  before  we  can  establish  the  right 
notion  of  education.  It  unites  the  people  and  they  look  upon  it  as 
the  training  place  in  which  everybody  is  interested,  just  as  they  look 
upon  the  courthouse  as  the  place  where  every  man  is  on  the  same 
footing/' 

We  who  engage  in  this  work  of  education  are  imperialists,  but  our 
empire  is  the  empire  of  the  mind;  for  we  believe  it  is  the  mind  that 
makes  the  body  rich.  We  are  expansionists,  but  we  desire  the  ex- 
pansion of  opportunity  for  all  men  to  live  the  true  life.  We  believe 
in  the  open  door ;  but  it  is  the  open  door  to  the  schoolhouse  to  which 
we  refer.  We  should  make  it  not  alone  a  nursery  for  children,  but  a 
place  of  intelligent  resort  for  men  and  women ;  and  we  are  democrats 
in  believing  with  our  honored  president  that  though  education  never 
saved  a  nation,  no  nation  can  be  saved  without  it. 

From  a  lecture  by  Henry  M.  Leipziger,  published  in  The  Addresses  of  the  Lewis 
and  Clark  Educational  Congress,  Portland,  1905. 

Comment  on  Evening  Lectures  for  Adults 

The  preceding  quotation  from  Dr.  Leipziger,  the  organizer  and 
supervisor  of  the  public  lectures  given  to  adults  in  New  York  City 
under  the  auspices  of  the  Board  of  Education,  brings  out  clearly  the 
social  significance  of  such  work.  It  is  an  outgrowth  of  the  larger  con- 


SOCIAL  NEED  FOR  CONTINUING  EDUCATION  OF  ADULT  107 

ception  of  the  function  of  education  in  the  modern  community.  More 
and  more  do  we  realize  that  in  a  truly  progressive  community  it  is 
necessary  for  education  to  extend  beyond  childhood  and  youth  into 
the  years  of  maturity.  It  is  too  much  to  expect  that  all  adults  shall 
endeavor  to  keep  alive  and  growing  mentally,  but  it  is  at  least  safe  to 
say  that  the  more  there  are  of  that  type  the  better  it  is  for  the  com- 
munity. 

The  plan  of  evening  lectures  which  has  proved  so  successful  in  New 
York  has  been  tried  with  variations  in  other  cities,  sometimes  under 
the  direction  of  the  school  authorities,  sometimes  at  the  instance  of 
outside  public  spirited  organizations.  We  are  warranted  in  believing 
moreover  that  what  has  proved  to  be  of  such  public  interest  in  the 
large  cities  would  be  equally  interesting  and  valuable  for  smaller 
centers  of  population  and  even  for  rural  communities.  Whether 
this  particular  plan  is  followed  or  not,  some  ways  and  means  must  be 
devised  for  greatly  extending  the  opportunities  for  education.  In  no 
other  way  can  those  who  were  trained  in  the  schools  of  twenty  or 
thirty  years  ago  keep  pace  with  the  present-day  rate  of  progress.  To 
give  only  one  illustration,  modern  sanitary  science  has  brought  to 
light  a  multitude  of  facts  bearing  vitally  upon  every  community. 
Shall  these  facts  regarding  personal  hygiene,  care  of  the  sick,  drinking 
water,  pure  foods,  be  taught  only  to  children?  The  general  social 
body  will  then  receive  very  little  benefit,  for  the  children  can 
do  little  toward  applying  these  facts  without  some  sympathetic  and 
intelligent  cooperation  on  the  part  of  the  adult  community.  The 
most  effective  method  is  to  teach  the  adults  directly,  and  in  this  way 
immediate  effects  may  be  produced.  It  is  probably  true  that  there 
is  no  means  by  which  educational  agencies  may  contribute  more 
rapidly  to  social  progress  than  through  some  such  system  of  adult 
instruction  in  the  advance  of  science  and  in  social  amelioration.  It 
is  significant  to  note  that  the  whole  plan  of  adult  instruction  indi- 
cates a  rather  radical  rejection  of  the  old  educational  theory  that 
only  children  are  educable.  Education  may,  and  in  modern  times 
must,  for  the  majority  of  the  adults,  continue  throughout  life. 

In  the  smaller  community  one  of  the  difficult  problems  is  that  of 
securing  interesting  and  instructive  lectures.  This  is  not,  however, 
as  difficult  as  it  may  seem  at  first  sight.  The  resources  available  to 


io8  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

even  the  smallest  community  are  rapidly  increasing  in  number.  One 
who  would  study  some  particular  and  apparently  unpromising  situa- 
tion in  the  light  of  the  suggestions  of  Perry  1  will  no  doubt  be  surprised 
at  the  unused  and  inexpensive  resources  which  lie  at  hand. 

TOPICS  FOR  STUDY  AND  DISCUSSION 

1.  Describe  the  lecture  systems  of  Cleveland,  Chicago,  Milwaukee, 
Boston,  Philadelphia.     See  Perry,  Hyre,  and  the  school  reports  of 
these  and  other  cities. 

2.  Examine  the  various  resources  mentioned  by  Perry  (Wider  Use, 
P-  385)  with  reference  to  developing  a  system  of  adult  instruction  in 
a  community  with  which  you  are  familiar.     Describe  the  community 
fully  as  to  its  social  and  industrial  characteristics  and  the  needs  grow- 
ing out  of  them. 

3.  Summarize    fully    the    social    need   of   continuing   instruction 
through  the  adult  years. 

4.  Is  it  a  legitimate  extension  of  the  function  of  public  education  ? 

BIBLIOGRAPHY 

ADAMS,  HERBERT  B.  "Educational  extension  in  the  United  States," 
Report  of  the  U.  S.  Commissioner  of  Education,  1899-1900.  Vol. 
i : 330-334. 

CLARK,  E.  P.     "The  free  lecture  movement,"  Nation,  74 :  363.     1902. 

HYRE,  S.  E.  "Public  lectures.  The  Cleveland  Plan,"  N.  S.  S.  E., 
Pt.  I,  p.  17. 

ILES,  G.  "How  the  great  lecture  system  works,"  W.W.,  5:3327. 
1903. 

LEIPZIGER,  H.  M.  "Free  lectures,"  Critic,  28:329.  A  history  of 
the  movement. 

—  Report  of  Public   Lectures,  to  the  N.  Y.  Board  of  Education. 
1889  to  date.     Especially  for  the  year  1909-1910. 

MATTHEWS,  F.  "How  New  York  educates  its  citizens,"  W.  W., 
4:  2211-2216. 

PERRY,  C.  A.  Wider  Use  of  the  School  Plant.  VII,  "Public  lectures 
and  entertainments." 

Public  Lectures  in  "Educational  Progress  in  1908,"  S.  Rev.,  17:  298. 

1  Wider  Use  of  the  School  Plant,  pp.  385-391. 


CHAPTER  VII 

PLAYGROUND  EXTENSION,  AN  ASPECT  OF  THE  LARGER  MEANING  OF 

EDUCATION 

Why  have  Playgrounds  at  Public  Expense? 

EVERY  city  and  town  should  provide  public  playgrounds  and  gym- 
nasiums with  proper  supervision  for  rational  forms  of  exercise  as 
well  as  for  health  education  apart  from  exercise.  But  each  family 
should  also  have  its  private  playground  and  gymnasium  in  some  form. 
Neither  is  a  satisfactory  substitute  for  the  other. 

A  man  and  a  woman,  a  boy  and  a  girl,  all  require  rational  physical 
activity  as  long  as  they  live.  They  require  motor  training  as  they 
require  mental  training  or  manual  training.  There  is  just  as  much 
reason  for  a  city  not  to  provide  schools  for  its  children  as  for  it  not 
to  provide  means  for  physical  training  and  recreation  —  and  no  more. 

A  properly  conducted  playground,  a  properly  conducted  gym- 
nasium, indoors  and  outdoors,  is  a  general  education  center ;  a  center 
for  moral  and  ethical  training,  a  place  to  teach  the  art  of  living  with- 
out depending  on  "  graft,"  a  feat  that  seems  almost  impossible  to  too 
many  of  the  next  generation  of  men  now  growing  up  in  crowded  centers 
of  population.  A  city  that  does  not  provide  suitable  places  for  its 
i  citizens  and  coming  citizens  to  care  for  their  physical  selves  will  be 
called  upon  to  provide  additional  police  stations,  jails  and  hospitals. 
Prevention  is  very  much  cheaper  than  cure,  both  for  the  patient  and 
the  doctor. 

The  correct  idea  of  a  playground  takes  in  much  more  than  a  vacant 
lot  where  boys  play  baseball,  or  even  a  fenced  in  and  apparatus 
supplied  recreation  center.  A  proper  playground  system  provides 
for  the  physical  welfare  of  all  ages  and  sexes  and  colors  and  nationali- 
ties in  one  establishment  or  in  several  separate  locations.  The  young 
women  need  rational  exercise  and  pure  play  —  especially  real  relaxa- 
tion from  restraint  of  all  kinds  —  fully  as  much  as  the  young  men. 
The  elderly  people  need  forms  of  the  same  kind  of  attention  as  well 
as  the  small  children. 

If  there  are  combined  in  one  place  interests  for  all  ages,  it  may  be 
more  easily  a  social  center  with  fathers,  mothers,  sons,  daughters, 

109 


no  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

and  aunts  and  cousins  also,  assembling  with  a  common  purpose  but 
still  having  individual  interests. 

Children  need  a  place  for  systematic  exercise,  be  it  called  play  or 
"  having  fun  "  or  physical  training.  Play  may  be  as  instinctive  to 
normal  children  as  to  normal  puppies,  but  the  children  benefit  by 
intelligent  supervision  and  wise  guidance.  The  knowing  supervisor 
of  child  play  will  see  that  proper  apparatus,  proper  tools,  are  used 
and  that  the  children  are  led  toward  the  better  purposes  of  recreation 
rather  than  toward  the  demoralizing  features  of  unguided,  meaning- 
less play.  This  can  be  best  done  in  a  place  equipped  and  set  apart 
for  the  purpose.  We  teach  general  education  in  schoolhouses,  and 
naturally  the  playground  is  the  best  place  to  teach  play. 

The  ordinances  of  a  large  New  England  city  contain  this  provision, 
which  sums  up  in  a  few  words  the  conditions  in  most  cities  of  the 
country :  — 

"  No  persons  shall  play  at  ball  or  throw  stones  or  other  missiles, 
or  slide  on  any  sled  or  machine,  or  in  any  vehicle  whatever,  for  amuse- 
ment, in  any  of  the  streets  or  highways." 

Toronto,  Canada,  has  a  Queen's  Park.  A  generation  ago  it  was  a 
recreation  spot  of  much  value  and  used  by  the  city's  children  freely. 
Now  there  is  a  sign  "  Ball  playing  strictly  prohibited."  As  if  this 
was  not  enough  restriction,  an  order  was  passed  last  winter  prohibit- 
ing coasting  down  the  hills. 

As  a  good  proportion  of  the  vacant  lots  have  "  no  trespassing  " 
signs,  where  are  the  boys  to  play,  if  their  fathers  do  not  happen  to 
own  a  piece  of  empty  land,  without  being  law  breakers?  The  only 
answer  is  that  cities  must  provide  artificial  playgrounds  to  give  the 
children  rights  taken  from  them  by  modern  municipal  conditions. 

In  a  properly  equipped  and  supervised  playground  the  natural 
rights  of  boys  and  girls  are  protected. 

As  has  so  often  been  said,  most  boys  who  break  laws,  who  stone 
the  neighbors'  cats,  who  see  how  few  whole  panes  of  glass  they  can 
leave  in  the  unused  factory  building,  whose  idea  of  manliness  is  asso- 
ciated with  the  corner  tough  who  once  licked  the  gamest  "cop"  on 
the  force ;  these  boys  are  usually  less  to  blame  than  are  the  authori- 
ties who  provide  no  outlet  for  natural  strenuousness,  but  instead 
attempt  to  bottle  up  the  energy.  As  well  tie  down  tight  the  cover 
on  a  coffee  tank  full  of  boiling  drink  and  not  expect  an  explosion  ! 

To  be  sure  the  parents  are  often,  at  the  bottom  of  affairs,  the 
responsible  parties  for  much  so-called  lawlessness  of  children,  but 
that  is  a  subject  not  to  be  treated  in  this  book. 

To  quote :  "  Give  a  boy  a  chance  at  football,  basket  ball,  hockey 
or  'the  game';  give  him  an  opportunity  to  perform  difficult  and 
dangerous  feats  on  a  horizontal  bar,  on  the  flying  rings,  or  from  a 


PLAYGROUND  EXTENSION  in 

diving  board ;  and  the  policeman  will  need  a  gymnasium  himself  to 
keep  his  weight  down.  This  is  not  theory,  but  is  the  testimony  you 
will  get  from  any  policeman  or  schoolmaster  who  has  been  in  a  neigh- 
borhood before  and  after  a  playground  was  started  there." 

So  much  for  the  boys  of  the  "  privileged  class,"  as  a  Harvard  pro- 
fessor modernly  calls  them,  or  of  the  "  submerged  tenth,"  as  the  older 
sociologists  styled  them. 

As  a  matter  of  fact  children  of  rich  or  wealthy  parents,  of  the 
socially  elevated  classes,  need  all  the  education  and  training  and 
good  effects  to  be  had  from  properly  directed  play  and  physical 
training.  Not  all  the  surplus  energy  of  these  boys  goes  toward  the 
idea  of  stoning  cats  and  breaking  windows,  but  they  get  the  same 
satisfactory  results  in  other  ways.  We  need  to  remember,  whether 
we  like  to  or  not,  that  natural  characteristics  in  the  different  strata 
of  society  do  not  really  and  truly  differ  so  very  much.  The  experi- 
ment of  providing  a  playground  especially  for  children  of  the  so-called 
upper  classes  has  been  tried  and  proved  successful. 

Such  a  place,  restricted  to  a  special  class  of  a  community,  ought 
not  to  be  supported  by  public  funds,  as  conditions  are  at  present. 
So  it  need  not  be  referred  to  here  except  to  impress  the  fact  that  all 
sorts  and  conditions  of  people  and  children  will  use  playgrounds  if 
adapted  to  their  interests  and  needs 

"  The  demand  for  playgrounds  has  increased  and  more  disposition 
to  establish  them  has  been  shown  among  officials.  Ten  years  ago  a 
public  playground  could  only  have  been  thought  of  as  the  gift  of 
some  wealthy  philanthropist.  Now  their  place  in  the  public  expendi- 
ture is  as  well  established  as  is  that  of  parks,  and  the  need  for  them 
is  almost  as  well  recognized  as  that  of  schools. 

"  It  is  within  the  memory  of  the  present  generation  that  the  appli- 
cation of  prevention  to  the  problem  of  criminal  administration  began. 
Reformatories  have  grown  less  and  less  like  prisons  in  their  adminis- 
tration, and  the  machinery  for  keeping  people  out  of  jail  is  now 
thoroughly  well  established  through  our  children's  courts  and  the 
parole  system  for  first  offenders. 

"  But  that  is  only  one  side  of  the  problem.  The  state  supports 
not  only  prisons,  but  almshouses  and  hospitals.  Keeping  recruits 
out  of  the  latter  is  just  as  much  a  problem  of  practical  administration 
as  keeping  people  out  of  prison. 

"  The  first  preventive  step  is  to  have  people  born  and  raised 
with  sound  bodies.  Over  their  birth  neither  science  nor  the  state  as 
yet  exercises  any  control.  But  the  rearing  of  a  city-born  population 
so  as  to  reduce  the  percentage  of  criminals,  paupers  and  diseased  is 
an  intensely  practical  matter.  Fresh  air  and  occupation  are  the  first 
requisites  for  sound  growth,  and  the  playgrounds  minister  directly  to 


112  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF   EDUCATION 

that  need.  Play  is  as  necessary  to  a  child  as  food,  and  in  a  city 
where  every  square  foot  of  ground  has  a  market  value  a  place  to 
play  must  be  supplied  by  the  city,  because  otherwise  the  children 
convert  streets  into  playgrounds,  to  their  own  harm  and  the  annoy- 
ance and  danger  of  adults  who  use  the  streets  for  business  or  pleasure. 

"  The  time  will  come  when  the  city  will  give  to  every  child  who 
seeks  it  the  rudiments  at  least  of  hand  training,  because  it  is  cheaper  to 
help  him  grow  up  as  a  thrifty  citizen  than  to  have  him  and  his  family 
hanging  upon  the  skirts  of  charitable  societies  and  on  the  edge  of 
the  poorhouse.  But  the  need  for  manual  training  is  less  pressing 
than  that  for  playgrounds."  .  .  . 

Very  few  movements,  small  or  great,  will  go  on  for  long  or  accom- 
plish much  without  a  leader.  Some  one  with  recognized  authority  to 
be  used  when  necessary  is  essential  to  most,  if  not  all,  undertakings 
even  in  this  democratic  America.  Just  so,  a  game  will  "  go  "  better 
if  there  is  an  umpire  or  a  captain  or  a  director  at  hand.  .  .  . 

"  The  play  organizer  is  the  most  important  element  in  a  successful 
playground.  Space  there  must  be.  A  good  equipment  serves  as  a 
sort  of  an  advertisement  to  draw  the  children  to  the  ground,  and  has 
a  certain  usefulness  of  its  own,  but  the  attendance  of  the  children 
and  the  good  results  obtained  will  depend  one  hundred  fold  more 
on  the  ability  to  interest  and  organize  the  children  than  it  will  on  the 
best  equipment.  Vacant  spaces  or  equipped  playgrounds  without  a 
play  organizer  become  seats  of  disorder  and  noise  against  which  the 
whole  neighborhood  soon  rebels.  They  fail  utterly  to  secure  organi- 
zation in  games  and  sports,  to  train  through  competition,  and  coopera- 
tion in  the  spirit  of  sportsmanship.  They  have  for  children  only  a 
very  low  athletic  value.  The  organized  playground  soon  comes  to 
stand  for  all  the  virtues  the  play  leader  himself  represents.  Measured 
merely  by  the  attendance  of  the  children,  it  is  the  only  successful 
playground,  for  a  good  director  will  double  and  treble  the  attendance 
over  that  of  a  mere  caretaker." 

The  title  "  directed  play  "  is  a  misnomer  and  has  been  the  source 
of  a  great  many  absurd  criticisms  of  the  playground  movement.  It  has 
suggested  to  the  uninitiated  that  the  playground  leaders  stand  about 
and  order  the  children  to  play  this  game  or  that,  and  that  in  general 
the  directed  playground  is  a  place  where  there  is  no  liberty  or  spon- 
taneity on  the  part  of  the  children,  that  it  is  an  assault  on  the  last 
stronghold  of  child  liberty  and  self-expression,  and  that  it  must  in- 
evitably result  in  making  him  a  mere  automaton. 

In  actual  fact,  the  work  of  the  play  leader  has  almost  nothing  in 
common  with  this  idea  of  direction.  The  successful  play  leader  is 
the  one  who  organizes  the  children  into  live  teams  around  various 
activities  and  interests ;  he  is  the  person  who  can  keep  a  number  of 


PLAYGROUND   EXTENSION  113 

•different  groups  of  children  interested  and  busy  at  the  same  time; 
•he  is  to  a  considerable  extent  a  leader ;  he  is  to  a  considerable  extent 
Ija  teacher  of  new  games,  but  his  prime  function  is,  I  conceive,  that  of  an 
•organizer.  He  is  not  at  all  a  director  in  the  sense  in  which  it  is  com- 
Bmonly  understood. 

The  remark  that  organized  play  takes  away  the  originality  of  the 
•children  seems  to  me  quite  contrary  to  the  teaching  both  of  modern 
psychology  and  of  experience.  The  children  left  to  themselves  with 
fcne  or  two  games  seldom  invent  new  ones,  whilst  children  who  have 
learned,  through  the  playground  or  any  other  means,  a  considerable 
•lumber  of  games,  are  constantly  modifying  old  ones  or  starting  ones 
Ithat  are  practically  new.  .  .  . 

An  idea  of  the  growth  and  scope  of  the  playground  movement  may 
fce  had  from  these  general  facts  covering  some  phases  of  development 
In  America. 

The  amount  of  money  spent  and  appropriated  for  playgrounds  and 
•accompanying  features  during  six  months  ending  May,  1908,  was 
•estimated  at  $6,000,000.  In  the  eleven  years  ending  1909,  covering 
practically  all  the  present  period  of  rapid  development,  about 
655,000,000  has  been  used  in  the  same  way.  Included  in  this  sum  is 
lover  $15,000,000  applied  to  the  equipment  and  general  conduct  of 
•Chicago  recreation  centers,  $750,000  for  San  Francisco  recreation 
•centers,  and  $15,000,000  for  New  York  City  athletic  fields,  play- 
grounds, etc.  These  figures  are  not  exact,  but  approximately  so. 
phey  are  quoted  to  figuratively  indicate  the  size  of  the  work  going 
Ion. 

New  York  City  employs  over  1000  teachers  in  various  forms  of 
jpummer  playground  and  recreation  center  work.  In  twenty-four 
Hcities  in  1905  there  were  87  playgrounds ;  in  1907  in  the  same  cities 
Hthere  were  169,  an  increase  of  94  per  cent  in  two  years.  In  the  same 
i  cities  in  1905  there  were  73  park  and  municipal  playgrounds ;  in  1907 
•there  were  108,  an  increase  of  48  per  cent  in  two  years.  In  1905 
Ifhere  were  160  playgrounds  of  all  kinds;  in  1907  there  were  247,  an 
increase  of  54  per  cent,  in  two  years.  These  figures  do  not  represent 
all  the  playgrounds  in  the  country,  but  those  in  24  cities  from  which 
statistics  were  gathered. 

During  the  years  1906-1909  more  than  thirty  cities,  in  which  play- 
grounds had  been  previously  maintained  by  private  philanthropy, 
,  made  appropriations  for  their  conduct  or  created  departments  for 
(direct  municipal  control  and  administration.  This  is  valuable  evi- 
ience  of  growing  recognition. 

In  over  two  hundred  cities  playgrounds  are  now  conducted,  two- 
ihirds  of  them  being  supported  from  public  funds.  The  number  has 
Deen  doubled  in  two  years. 


H4  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

There  have  been  isolated  instances  of  reduced  appropriations,  just 
as  appropriations  are  occasionally  unreasonably  reduced  for  public 
education,  usually  for  purely  local  reasons.  Playgrounds  of  a  right 
type  are  equally  essential  with  schools ;  both  may  suffer  from  legisla- 
tive or  political  shortsightedness  here  and  there,  but  the  general  trend 
is  in  all  respects  rapidly  progressive.  In  the  early  development  of 
playgrounds  there  is  likely  to  be  —  has  been  —  over-enthusiasm  and 
wrong  emphasis  on  some  particular  points,  but  usually  this  is  due  to 
misconception  or  misdirected  zeal  rather  than  to  any  reason  justify- 
ing withdrawal  of  support. 

The  tendency  seems  to  be  for  public  support  with  money  and 
official  interest  to  be  given  as  willingly  as  has  ever  occurred  with  a 
movement  for  the  benefit  of  the  people.  Those  who  hold  the  munici- 
pal purse  strings  may  here  and  there  for  a  time  fail  to  appreciate 
the  value  of  prevention  and  decline  to  grasp  the  proven  fact  that  such 
methods  as  are  provided  in  recreation  centers  are  true  educational 
and  social  preventives  of  powerful  influence. 

History  tells  us  that  the  first  "  theorists  "  who  advocated  free 
public  schools  in  the  United  States  had  fully  as  much  trouble  to 
educate  official  minds  and  get  public  financial  support  as  the  play- 
ground advocates  are  having  now.  History,  studied  intelligently, 
is  a  wonderful  teacher  and  a  great  encourager  of  patient  waiting; 
not  idle  waiting,  but  busy  working,  propagandism  and  continued 
practical  results  for  proof. 

The  development  of  the  playground  movement  is  proceeding  at 
a  very  satisfactory  rate  in  all  ways.  Mistakes  of  the  early  period  are 
being  made  good  and  there  are  increasing  indications  that  the  work 
is  being  taken  seriously  —  that  it  has  mostly  passed  the  "  fad " 
stage  and  become  a  staple  requirement. 

State  laws  requiring,  authorizing,  or  at  least  permitting  and  thus 
officially  encouraging,   playgrounds,   and  other  means  for  rational 
recreation  and  physical  training,  have  been  passed  by  several  state  I 
legislatures.     New  Jersey  and  Ohio  have  "  enabling  acts."     Minne-j 
sota  authorizes  bond  issues  for  acquiring  playground  sites.     Several  | 
progressive  state  legislatures  have  the  matter  under  consideration. 

Probably  the  state  action  with  deepest  significance  to  date  is  the 
development  of  a  series  of  public  recreation  centers  in  forty  citie 
and  towns  that  have  adopted  the  compulsory  Massachusetts  Play-| 
ground  Act  of  1908.  This  law  required  that  each  city  and  town  of 
ten  thousand  population  accepting  the  act  should  "  maintain  at  least 
one  public  playground  conveniently  located  and  of  suitable  size  and 
equipment  for  the  recreation  and  physical  education  of  the  minor 
of  such  city  or  town."  At  local  elections  in  December,  1908,  anc 
March  and  April,  1909,  the  question  of  accepting  the  act  was  vote 


PLAYGROUND  EXTENSION  115 

i  upon  in  forty-two  cities  and  towns  of  the  state ;   forty  communities 
approved  the  new  law,  two  disapproved.     The  total  popular  vote 
;  was  154,495  in  favor  and  33,886  opposed. 

Extracts  from  American  Playgrounds,  E.  B.  Mero,  The  Dale  Association,  Boston, 
1909.    Courtesy  of  the  author. 

The  Playgrounds  of  Pittsburgh 

The  development  of  the  playground  system  of  Pittsburgh  has  been 
I  unique  in  its  combination  of  the  playground  and  vacation  school 
|  ideals.     Further,  it  has  been  up  to  the  present  time  a  successful 
I  experiment  in  cooperation  between  the  city  administration  and  an 
i  unofficial  body.     Pittsburgh  is  not  yet  among  the  most  favored  cities 
I  in  either  the  number  or  material  equipment  of  her  playgrounds,  but 
her  careful  classification  and  intensive  work  among  the  children  for 
I  the  past  twelve  years  have  been  thought  worthy  of  study  by  cities 
i  having  much  more  extensive  systems ;   and,  more,  local  public  senti- 
ment has  developed  until  the  time  is  ripe  for  a  comprehensive  city 
plan. 

Pittsburgh  had  been  a  typical  American  industrial  city  in  her 

i  single-hearted  devotion  to  business  and  her  apparent  indifference  to 

;any  pleasures  other  than  the  satisfaction  of  success.     Her  almost 

unlimited  natural  resources,  which  might  have  given  the  people  a 

;  prosperous  sense  of  leisure,  her  three  noble  rivers,  her  coal  and  iron 

:  and  oil,  were  only  serving  to  make  the  "  workshop  of  the  world  "  a 

greater  workshop  —  not  to  make  it  either  beautiful  or  livable.     From 

the  hilltops  one  might  see  the  outlines  of  the  superb  setting  of  this 

i  gate  of  the  west,  but  at  closer  range  the  beauty  was  lost  in  narrow 

I  streets,  incongruous,  haphazard  buildings  and  smoke.     Characteris- 

i  tically  also  the  city  which  had  forgotten  the  meaning  and  the  uses  of 

i  leisure  had  forgotten  the  use  and  value  of  recreation.     Perhaps  the 

i  Scotch-Irish  settlers  of  an  earlier  day  "took  their  pleasures  sadly/' 

like  our  English  cousins,  but  it  is  rather  surprising  that  the  large 

numbers  of  play-loving  Germans  should  have  done  so  little  to  provide 

1  wholesome  amusement  for  their  families. 

Twelve  years  ago  Pittsburgh  was  in  as  great  need  of  play  and  play- 
j  grounds  as  it  could  well  be.  No  town  of  its  size  in  the  country  had  so 
;  neglected  to  provide  for  public  parks,  of  which  there  were  only  two 
I  within  the  limits  of  the  old  city. 

In  all  the  mill  and  tenement  districts  of  Pittsburgh,  in  the  river 

!  wards,  the  "  Hill  District/'  the  South  Side,  West  End  or  Hazelwood 

there  was  not  a  foot  of  land  for  park  or  common  except  a  little  thirty- 

'  foot  wide  strip  of  grass  on  Second  Avenue  near  the   Courthouse, 

and  on  this  the  adjoining  property  holders  were  looking  with  covetous 


n6  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

eyes.  How  could  we  think  of  parks  and  playgrounds  when  all  the 
land  and  even  the  river  banks  were  needed  for  business?  Every- 
where the  bluffs  rose  at  a  very  short  distance  from  the  rivers,  crowd- 
ing mills  and  mill  workers  into  uncomfortably  close  companionship. 
The  small  area  of  level  ground  down  town  had  been  built  over  many 
years  before  congestion  began,  and  the  old,  one-family  houses  were! 
overflowing  with  a  dense  population  for  which  they  had  neither 
enough  rooms  nor  proper  sanitary  facilities. 

The  tiny  yards  were  often  filled  with  hovels  or  sheds  used  as  dwell- 
ings, and  those  remaining  were  filled  with  rubbish  even  as  they  arc! 
to-day.  The  earlier  residents  of  these  neighborhoods  had  either  I 
moved  away  or  had  been  overwhelmed  by  successive  waves  of  for- 1 
eigners,  an  alien  people  with  lower  standards  of  living,  who  had 
thronged  through  the  city's  gates  and  settled  down  upon  the  most  I 
crowded  districts.  The  situation  was  made  much  worse  by  the  high  I 
rents,  which  caused  many  families  occupying  only  two  or  three  rooms  1 
to  take  as  boarders  the  unmarried  mill  operatives,  whose  alternate  | 
night  and  day  shifts  compelled  them  to  live  near  their  work.  Some  | 
thousands  of  beds  in  these  small  and  ill- ventilated  quarters  were! 
occupied  day  and  night,  creating  for  the  children  of  the  family  con- 1 
ditions  supposed  to  belong  only  to  abject  poverty.  Play  in  a  steam- 1 
ing  kitchen  or  home  workshop  is  difficult  and  unwelcome,  but  playj 
in  the  bedroom  of  sleeping  boarders  is  impossible. 

These  practically  homeless  children  had  no  yards.  Their  only  I 
playground  was  the  street,  with  its  narrow  sidewalks  and  the  space  | 
between  the  curbs  filled  with  a  constantly  increasing  traffic.  TheU 
steep  hillsides  above  gave  so  insecure  a  foundation  to  the  rickety  0 
frame  houses  attached  to  them  that  these  houses  were  often  built  I 
into  the  hill,  so  that  the  rear  of  the  lower  stories  were  without  light  1 
and  air.  They  had  not  a  foot  of  yard  space  for  play  nor  even  the  I 
facilities  of  modern  school  buildings  in  these  older  wards.  The| 
schools  had  neither  gymnasiums  nor  assembly  hall,  and  their  inade-| 
quate  yards  were  almost  never  used,  but  the  children  of  these  dis-j 
tricts  had  little  desire  to  play.  The  nature  of  the  mill  population,! 
recruited  yearly  from  the  oppressed  and  impoverished  peasants  of| 
southeastern  Europe,  had  much  to  do  with  the  lack  of  play  spirit.  I 
These  people  seemingly  are  not  rich  in  play  traditions  and  customs! 
or  they  leave  behind  them  those  which  they  had  at  home.  We  un-l 
consciously  assume  that  all  children  play  because  they  are  children,! 
forgetting  that  play  is  a  social  inheritance.  Children,  whether  savage  [I 
or  civilized,  learn  their  games  from  one  another  and  from  imitating! 
and  symbolizing  adult  life.  Most  of  the  essential  facts  about  anyl 
civilization  are  revealed  by  its  games,  and  in  this  light  American |j 
children  of  to-day  are  seen  to  be  poorer  in  imagination,  ideality  andi 


PLAYGROUND  EXTENSION  117 

invention  than  their  forefathers ;  for  they  have  lost  many  of  the  old 
|  games.  But  the  children  among  the  mills  were  usually  of  foreign 
parentage  if  not  of  foreign  birth.  Their  new  Americanism  demanded 
complete  forgetfulness  of  the  old  country  and  its  ways.  They  must 
adopt  the  play  traditions  of  their  adopted  country.  But  what  sug- 
gestion of  play  could  they  find  in  a  city  of  iron,  whose  monster  ma- 
chinery rested  neither  day  nor  night?  Their  surroundings  were  ugly 
and  forlorn.  In  many  places  green  things  could  not  grow  because  of 
the  pall  of  smoke  which  swept  heavily  down,  clouding  the  sunlight, 
and  leaving  a  deposit  of  grime  on  everything,  including  the  children. 
If  the  imagination  is  fed  by  sense  impressions,  these  children  could 
have  little  idea  of  life  other  than  mere  existence  for  the  sake  of  work. 
Without  playground  or  play  traditions  or  imagination  or  vitality,  we 
found  that  these  children  literally  did  not  know  how  to  play. 

In  1896,  when  the  Civic  Club  recently  formed  was  looking  for 
work,  it  saw  the  yardless,  forlorn  homes  of  these  children  and  the 
crowded  streets,  and  determined  to  open  the  school  yards  as  play- 
grounds. It  provided  a  few  swings,  toys  and  sand,  and  by  a  fortunate 
mistake  put  two  kindergarteners  in  charge  instead  of  one.  In  order 
to  keep  the  teachers  busy  the  visiting  committee  suggested  that  a 
little  program  be  arranged,  dividing  the  time  between  stories,  songs, 
directed  games  and  free  play  for  the  different  groups  of  children. 
The  first  playground  was  in  a  ward  settled  by  middle  class  people, 
and  this  plan  worked  smoothly  enough,  though  the  children  needed 
more  assistance  in  play  than  might  have  been  expected.  Then  the 
committee  entered  two  mill  neighborhoods  and  met  the  real  diffi- 
culty. Never  having  lived  next  to  a  mill  and  always  having  had  a 
yard  and  a  doorstep  of  their  own,  they  could  not  understand  it. 
That  children  should  not  know  how  to  play  was  most  astonishing. 
The  committee  could  not  believe  it.  Some  of  them  do  not  believe  it 
now.  They  think  that  the  children  played  while  they  were  not 
looking.  But  the  trained  and  experienced  teachers  soon  discovered 
the  spiritual  starvation  of  their  charges  and  set  themselves  imme- 
diately to  do  intensive  work.  The  morning  program  began  with  a 
march  around  the  yard,  led  by  a  drummer  boy  in  the  full  pride  of  his 
noise.  Children  came  running  from  all  directions.  They  sang  and 
saluted  the  flag  and  then  were  divided  into  groups  for  games  and  free 
play  with  the  sand  and  swings.  About  the  middle  of  the  session, 
toys  were  put  away  and  all  the  children  gathered  in  the  kindergarten 
room  while  the  teachers  told  stories  or  taught  kindergarten  games 
and  songs  with  piano  accompaniment.  The  trained  teachers  were 
usually  assisted  by  volunteers  from  the  committee  who  were  not 
content  to  observe  and  criticise,  but  spent  many  mornings  guarding 
swings,  taking  care  of  babies  to  relieve  the  little  sister  mothers, 


n8  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

telling  stories  and  bringing  flowers  each  week  for  distribution.  After 
the  second  year,  the  Children's  Department  of  the  Carnegie  Library 
sent  trained  story  tellers  to  the  playgrounds  and  also  distributed 
books  to  the  children,  cooperating  most  effectively  with  the  committee.  I 

North  of  Penn  Avenue  a  playground  was  opened  among  colored  I 
children  whose  homes  were  indescribable  and  whose  parents  did  not  I 
seem  to  care  where  their  children  were.     An  exception,  however,  was  II 
the  mother  of  one  small  vagrant  who  came  to  the  playground  and 
carried  him  home  in  high  indignation.     He  had  been  required  to 
obey  some  simple  rule,  and  she  told  the  teachers  that  if  her  boy  could 
not  do  as  he  pleased  at  school,  she  would  keep  him  at  home,  where  he  I 
could.     After  four  years  spent  among  the  white  children  near  here  I 
the  kindergartner  said,  "  They  cannot  plan  games  for   themselves,  I 
but  they  now  will  continue  to  play  after  we  have  left  them  and  you 
do  not  know  how  much  that  means  in  this  place."     Children  on  some 
playgrounds  did  not  know  why  they  were  there. 

One  of  the  pathological  conditions  observed  among  Pittsburgh  I 
children  is  their  feverish,  unchildlike  desire  for  work  —  real  work,  I 
not  play.  This  was  most  intense  in  the  "  Hill  District,"  where  it  was  I 
encouraged  by  the  parents.  Girls  would  not  come  to  the  play- 
ground unless  bribed  with  sewing  classes,  and  parents  continually  I 
asked  that  children  only  six  or  seven  be  given  sewing.  They  said,  I 
"  It  is  no  good  to  come  to  play."  This  is  a  region  of  tobacco  factories  I 
and  sweatshops  in  which,  before  the  passage  of  the  child  labor  law,  I 
children  were  put  into  the  industrial  treadmill  very  early. 

The  boys  were  not  so  abnormally  industrious  as  the  girls.  Some  I 
were  rather  too  docile  and  quiet,  but  quite  as  often  they  had  acquired 
the  roving  spirit  of  the  tramp.  The  gang  was  found  everywhere 
among  the  street-bred  children,  but  it  had  developed  in  its  most 
dangerous  form  in  Soho,  where,  with  the  Irishman's  genius  for  organi- 
zation, the  older  boys  had  formed  a  band  of  robbers  that  terrorized 
the  neighborhood,  while  tiny  fellows  just  out  of  the  kindergarten 
were  learning  the  rules  of  the  game.  After  taking  the  names  of 
more  than  a  dozen  of  these  one  morning  we  accidentally  learned  that 
every  name  was  an  alias!  Among  the  West  End  mills,  where  the 
little  girl  wanted  to  ride  in  the  patrol  wagon,  the  boys  were  nearly 
all  sneak  thieves  and  apparently  had  no  sense  of  the  right  of  property. 
They  stole  things  of  no  value  to  them,  and  stole  from  one  another 
even  when  honest  with  the  teacher. 

More  than  half  of  the  Pittsburgh  playgrounds  have  been  in  these 
sections  where  the  children  were  subnormal  and  apparently  tending 
to  degeneracy  because  of  their  unfortunate  surroundings,  children 
whose  love  of  beauty  was  rudimentary,  whose  imagination  was  so 
dwarfed  that  they  never  could  think  of  anything  to  make  or  anything 


PLAYGROUND   EXTENSION  119 

to  play  and  whose  knowledge  of  nature  was  so  limited  that  only  six 
out  of  forty  knew  the  robin,  while  one  child  asked  if  a  great  owl  were 
a  humming  bird. 

In  the  middle  class  neighborhoods  on  both  sides  of  the  rivers  the 
children  were  bright,  active  and  resourceful.  It  was  a  joy  to  be  with 
them,  for  they  knew  "  what  to  do  next/1  and  they  were  a  great  relief 
to  our  minds,  for  we  did  not  want  to  consider  the  others  the  Pittsburgh 
type. 

After  five  years'  experience  the  committee  felt  that  the  children 
on  the  playgrounds  must  be  better  classified  and  that  more  attention 
should  be  given  to  the  older  boys  and  girls.  Much  had  been  accom- 
plished for  individual  children.  Little  sister  mothers  had  gone  home 
with  more  childlike  expressions  on  their  faces.  Real  mothers  and 
fathers  had  come  with  grateful  words  to  the  gates  and  many  parents 
understood  their  own  children  better  after  seeing  them  happy  and 
obedient  in  a  child  world.  But  the  small  yards,  with  their  limited 
apparatus,  were  adapted  only  for  the  use  of  young  children,  and  even 
these  could  not  receive  enough  personal  attention  from  the  overtaxed 
kindergartners.  The  older  girls  would  not  or  could  not  come  unless 
given  some  definite  training.  Those  who  wandered  in  soon  became 
restless,  begging  for  sewing  or  some  other  form  of  occupation,  while 
the  boys  made  such  a  nuisance  of  themselves  that  they  forfeited 
their  privileges  early  in  the  season  and  only  remained  to  menace  the 
"  kindergarten  "  from  outside.  The  committee,  therefore,  instead  of 
increasing  the  number  of  playgrounds,  decided  to  extend  the  useful- 
ness of  those  already  opened.  In  order  that  the  older  children  might 
learn  to  play,  suitable  playfellows  for  them  must  be  found  and  their 
.desire  for  work  must  be  met.  After  experimenting  for  two  years 
with  vacation  school  methods,  the  committee  decided  to  combine  the 
vacation  school  with  the  playground.  The  program  for  the  younger 
children  was  unchanged.  For  those  over  eight  years  of  age  it  was 
revised  to  include  some  form  of  industrial  work,  music,  nature  study 
and  clay  modeling,  or  drawing  in  colors.  Part  of  the  morning  was 
always  devoted  to  games.  When  twelve  playground  schools  had  been 
planned,  the  committee  found  itself  quite  unable  to  pay  the  salaries 
of  enough  teachers  to  take  care  of  them.  With  a  courage  born  of 
necessity  the  committee  members  then  assumed  the  responsibilities 
of  volunteer  principals.  The  twelve  small  schools  were  opened  with 
only  two  or  three  trained  teachers  at  each  center  and  the  street  boys 
came  in  like  a  flood.  The  general  chairman's  memories  of  that 
summer  are  very  vivid  —  in  one  school  a  howling  mob  of  colored 
boys  surrounding  the  altogether  helpless  little  teacher,  who  had 
offered  to  give  them  a  nature  lesson,  in  another  a  stampede  of 
Polish,  Italian  and  Irish  boys  from  the  drawing-room,  where  the 


120  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

necessities  of  a  limited  schedule  had  sent  them.  Everywhere  was  an 
overpowering  sense  of  the  street.  But  every  woman  stood  by  her 
post  to  the  end.  By  means  of  careful  supervision,  weekly  teachers1 
conferences  and  sheer  determination  the  summer  was  brought  to  a 
successful  close. 

The  development  of  these  "  schools  of  play  "  has  been  the  work 
of  the  last  five  years.  The  endeavor  has  been  to  base  each  depart- 
ment on  a  normal  play  instinct  and  to  keep  them  spontaneous,  child- 
like and  joyous,  without  strain  and  without  self-consciousness.  In 
the  "  carpenter  shops/7  boys  are  given  play  models  and  allowed  to 
use  the  saw  and  plane  like  men.  In  the  art  classes,  Indian  or  war 
stories  are  illustrated  on  large  sheets  of  paper,  while  the  girls  paint 
flowers  and  birds  and  stencil  dainty  patterns  which  they  have  them- 
selves designed.  They  use  live  models  whenever  possible,  and  parrots, 
puppies,  cats,  geese  and  chickens  are  carried  from  school  to  school 
to  the  great  delight  of  the  children.  Dancing  and  rhythmic  gym- 
nastic exercises  receive  much  attention,  as  the  children  do  not  know 
how  to  use  either  hands  or  feet  well.  They  can  neither  stand  nor 
walk  nor  throw  a  ball  straight.  Classes  in  cooking  and  nursing  have 
been  fitted  in  wherever  space  can  be  found,  the  boys  being  as  anxious 
to  cook  as  the  girls.  But  to  the  over-industrious  teachers  and  children 
one  inflexible  rule  has  been  given  —  "  The  play  period  must  not  be 
encroached  upon."  Every  teacher  has  her  game  book  and  must 
learn  to  play  if  she  has  forgotten  how. 

As  the  number  of  trained  teachers  has  been  increased,  the  volun- 
teer committee  has  gradually  resumed  the  social  duties  of  earlier  days. 

One  charming  custom  of  our  playgrounds  is  the  weekly  flower  day 
during  the  summer,  to  which  flower  lovers  for  twenty  miles  around 
the  city  contribute.  Great  baskets  of  flowers  are  sent  from  city  and 
suburban  gardens  and  scores  of  women  spend  Thursday  evening  and 
Friday  morning  in  tying  thousands  of  bouquets.  The  love  of  flowers 
seems  to  be  an  absorbing  passion,  from  the  tiniest  babies  to  the  rough- 
est boys,  and  for  days  after  the  distribution  the  windows  of  the  tene- 
ments are  brightened  by  them. 

What  have  these  play  schools  accomplished  in  the  past  seven 
years?  When  we  go  back  to  the  mill  neighborhoods  we  see  no  out- 
ward change.  There  is  the  same  dirt  and  overcrowding.  The  mills 
have  not  changed  in  appearance  and  the  operatives  have  not  changed 
in  character.  The  population  is  if  anything  more  dense,  but  families 
have  been  helped,  as  these  children  have  been  trained  to  make  the 
home  cleaner  and  the  clothes  less  dependent  on  "  the  strained  devotion 
of  a  pin."  Little  girls  have  taught  their  mothers  how  to  cook  whole- 
some, plain  food,  and  their  care  of  the  spoiled  tenement  baby  has 
been  more  intelligent.  At  one  school  the  girls  were  asked  if  their 


PLAYGROUND   EXTENSION  121 

babies  ever  drank  coffee.  Every  one  answered,  "  Yes."  When  the 
babies  are  put  on  a  milk  diet  instead  of  one  including  coffee,  dough- 
nuts and  bananas,  they  will  lie  in  a  basket  or  hammock,  and  the  little 
sisters  that  tend  .them  can  themselves  rest  or  play  with  other  chil- 
dren. 

The  playgrounds  are  of  help  in  solving  the  child  labor  problem. 
Many  parents  put  their  children  to  work  during  the  summer  vacation, 
not  because  they  need  the  pittance  which  the  child  can  earn,  but  to 
save  them  from  the  demoralization  of  the  street.  When  these  boys 
and  girls  are  fourteen  years  old  they  seldom  return  to  school.  Such 
parents  are  more  than  willing  to  make  use  of  the  playground  school 
instead  of  the  factory  or  mill.  Little  Michel  Strozzi's  father  had  put 
him  in  the  glass  works  for  the  summer,  but  he  sent  him  to  the  vaca- 
tion school  more  than  a  mile  away,  where  the  child,  small  and  delicate 
for  his  age,  ran  and  jumped  and  built  pyramids  with  other  boys, 
handled  tools,  made  toys  and  played  with  earnestness  which  expanded 
his  lungs,  straightened  his  back,  and  steadied  his  active  little  brain  for 
another  year  of  effective  study. 

And  the  gang  has  been  tamed.  The  West  End  gang,  whose  ideals 
had  been  confined  to  baseball  and  pugilism,  became  enthusiastic  car- 
penters. Their  devotion  to  the  fine,  clean  young  fellow  who  was  their 
instructor  was  pathetic.  They  followed  him  around.  In  order  to 
cure  the  sneak  thieving  he  would  leave  all  the  material  out  on  the 
ball  field  and  go  away  without  making  any  boy  responsible  for  it. 
The  next  morning  every  bat  and  ball  and  glove  would  be  returned. 

In  another  school  the  following  rules  were  composed  and  written 
on  the  board  by  a  basketry  class  of  small  boys :  — 


You  must  not  sass  the  teacher. 
You  must  not  chew  gum. 
You  must  not  talk  loud. 
You  must  not  break  the  rules. 


The  social  results  of  such  diversified  and  intimate  work  cannot  be 
estimated.  Manual  training  has  been  introduced  into  a  number  of 
schools,  library  groups  and  clubs  have  been  started,  and  the  settle- 
ment classes  have  continued  the  spirit  of  the  playgrounds. 

We  would  rather  judge  them,  however,  by  the  great  play  festival 
at  Schenley  Park,  which  closed  the  season  of  1908.  Three  thousand 
children  who  had  been  regular  enough  in  their  attendance  to  learn 
games  and  drills  and  folk  dances  came  from  every  part  of  the  city, 
flying  their  school  pennants  from  the  car  windows,  waving  the  school 


122  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

colors  and  shouting  the  school  yells.  At  the  top  of  the  hill  they  formed 
in  procession  and  marched  down  eight  abreast,  singing  the  play- 
ground marching  song  as  they  passed  in  review  before  the  mayor 
and  city  officials.  First  came  the  babies,  with  their  barrows  and 
buckets  and  shovels,  their  toys  and  pin  wheels ;  then  children  a  little 
older  in  flower  chains  and  horse  reins ;  boys  on  stilts  and  girls  with 
rag  dolls  of  their  own  making;  then  boys  and  girls  bringing  toys, 
carts  and  all  manner  of  other  things  which  they  had  made ;  and  last 
the  symbolic  procession  of  the  arts  and  crafts  of  the  play  schools. 
The  carpenters  in  cap  and  apron,  the  housewives  dressed  as  Puritan 
maidens,  the  cooks  in  white  and  the  nurses  in  blue  with  the  red  cross 
on  their  arm,  the  metal  workers  with  their  mimic  swords,  the  gar- 
deners in  overalls  and  farmers'  hats,  with  home-made  rakes  over 
their  shoulders,  the  peasant  dancers,  the  singers,  the  basket  makers 
disguised  as  real  Indians,  the  potters  and  the  painters  in  blouses, 
the  weavers  and  the  needle  workers,  all  carrying  their  banners  and 
the  tools  of  their  craft.  The  teachers  marched  with  the  children, 
and  janitors  and  custodians  who  would  not  be  left  out  brought  up 
the  rear.  Before  the  procession  was  ended  a  sudden  storm  drove  the 
children  into  the  buildings  near  by,  drenched  but  happy.  After  the 
storm  they  trooped  out  again  and  scattered  over  the  field  for  games. 
Drills,  dances,  races  and  other  contests,  and  a  wonderful  circus  for 
the  boys  followed  quickly  enough  to  be  bewildering  to  the  spectators. 
At  any  time  when  children  were  free  they  wandered  about  the  park 
wondering  at  so  much  unused  space.  Then,  with  the  assembly,  the 
flag  salute  and  the  singing  of  America,  the  long  lines  of  children  were 
off  and  away  in  perfect  order,  yet  without  stiffness  or  constraint, 
after  the  "  happiest  day  of  their  lives." 

The  playgrounds  and  recreation  centers  of  Pittsburgh  have  only 
touched  the  fringe  of  the  tenement  and  workingmen's  neighborhoods, 
but  the  problem  is  now  plainly  stated.  Its  solution  is  a  question  of 
time.  The  playground  movement  in  America  is  justified  by  the  im- 
mediate response  which  has  come  to  it  from  cities  and  villages  and 
even  country  places;  and  the  desire  for  freedom,  the  play  instinct, 
is  not  least  insistent  in  our  great  industrial  centers.  In  Pittsburgh 
playgrounds  are  no  longer  a  luxury  —  they  are  a  necessity.  Because 
of  the  need  for  relaxation  from  the  pressure  of  city  life  and  labor, 
because  children  do  not  find  in  the  street  and  the  school  and  the 
home  —  especially  the  tenement  home  —  all  the  necessities  of  life 
and  growth,  and  because  the  European  c,omes  to  us  as  raw  material 
needing  much  social  training  and  discipline  to  fit  him  for  the  respon- 
sibilities of  American  citizenship,  we  must  have  playgrounds. 

The  recreation  center  is  one  of  the  great  agencies  in  counteracting 
the  forces  which  tend  to  disintegrate  and  desocialize  our  modern 


PLAYGROUND   EXTENSION  123 

industrial  cities.  Here  will  be  emphasized  the  human  factor  which 
is  reduced  to  its  lowest  terms  in  highly  specialized  forms  of  manu- 
facture and  distribution.  Here  all  the  children  of  a  neighborhood 
will  gather  for  play.  The  center  will  have  a  playroom  for  little  ones 
too  young  to  attend  school,  and  after  school  hours  in  winter  and 
on  the  long  summer  mornings  it  will  provide  the  place  and  materials 
for  the  play  of  school  children.  By  intelligent  direction  of  the  play 
instinct  it  will  make  the  natural  connection  between  play  and  work. 
For  the  young  people  it  will  provide  a  place  for  wholesome  amusement 
at  a  critical  time  in  their  lives  when  the  home  cannot  and  ought  not 
to  confine  their  growing  social  interests  within  its  walls,  but  should 
keep  in  touch  with  all  these  interests  and  be  related  to  them.  This 
relation  is  natural  in  the  democratic  freedom  of  the  recreation  center, 
and  for  tired  fathers  and  mothers,  who  need  a  place  where  they 
may  meet  their  neighbors  and  widen  their  acquaintance,  it  will 
have  something  corresponding  to  the  town  room  of  old  New 
England. 

The  schoolhouse  may  often  be  used  to  meet  the  social  needs  of 
our  congested  neighborhoods.  School  yards  can  be  open  in  summer 
and  after  school  hours  in  winter,  and  should  be  supplied  with  appa- 
ratus and  directors  of  play.  The  building  can  also  be  open  in  the 
winter  for  the  same  purposes.  But  few  school  buildings  in  the  older 
parts  of  Pittsburgh  are  capable  of  extended  use,  and  wherever  the 
school's  limitations  are  reached  the  distinctive  play  center  must 
supply  its  deficiencies. 

The  recreation  center  has  a  larger  field  than  the  school  and  appeals 
to  many  adults  who  will  not  go  to  the  school,  but  will  respond  quickly 
to  the  call  to  play.  In  its  broadest  application  this  may  save  the 
laborer  from  the  downward  pull  of  unrelieved  drudgery.  Through  it 
some  of  the  traditions  of  beauty  which  are  the  inheritance  of  our 
newest  citizens  may  become  our  own.  What  vandals  we  have  been 
to  set  Italy  only  to  digging  in  our  ditches  and  Greece  to  stoking  fur- 
naces !  We  have  piled  money  upon  money  in  our  safety  deposit 
vaults,  but  we  have  wasted  our  human  riches  in  a  way  that  is  even 
more  stupid  than  it  is  cruel. 

To  the  child  of  poverty,  the  city  must  restore  his  birthright  by 
obliterating  the  slum,  making  healthy  bodies  and  minds  possible  for 
all  by  setting  the  little  ones  of  the  tenement  and  factory  in  real  child 
gardens.  To  the  boys  and  girls  of  all  classes  the  city  must  give  a 
generous  education  of  body  and  mind.  The  playground  and  the 
school  must  cooperate  in  guiding  and  developing  their  latent  powers. 
The  city  must  re-create  the  bond  of  fellowship  between  the  poor  and 
the  rich  that  shall  make  their  common  human  interests  paramount 
to  the  competitive  war  which  sets  them  in  opposing  and  jealous 


124  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

camps.  The  common  denominator  may  most  often  be  found  in  the 
play  spirit,  and  to  this  we  may  look  for  the  civic  unity  of  the  coming 
time. 

Beulah  Kennard,  President  of  the  Pittsburgh  Playground  Association.  Extracts 
from  a  history  prepared  for  The  Pittsburgh  Survey.  Published  in  the  Annual 
Report  of  the  Pittsburgh  Playground  Association,  1908.  Courtesy  of  the  author. 

Comment  on  the  Social  Significance  of  the  Playground 

Movement 

One  of  the  important  extensions  of  modern  educational  activity  is 
that  connected  with  school  and  municipal  playgrounds.  For  many 
years,  even  for  centuries,  the  importance  of  play  has  been  dimly  recog- 
nized. It  is  only  within  the  last  few  decades  that  the  individual  and 
social  values  of  play  have  been  adequately  understood,  at  least  to  the 
extent  of  serious  and  systematic  attempts  to  realize  those  values  in  a 
general  and  practical  way. 

That  play  is  a  necessity  for  the  nqrmal  development  of  children 
and  recreation  for  the  mental  and  physical  health  of  adults  is  no  longer 
a  matter  requiring  argument.  But  while  it  is  important  for  the  in- 
dividual boy  or  girl  to  have  a  chance  to  play,  the  present-day  problem 
of  play  extends  far  beyond  the  needs  of  the  individual.  Play  is  more 
and  more  recognized  to  be  a  profound  social  necessity  Careful  sta- 
tistical studies  show  that,  in  Chicago  for  instance,  the  establishment 
of  supervised  playgrounds  has  very  appreciably  diminished  juvenile 
delinquency  in  the  areas  within  which  they  are  located.  This  is  a 
natural  result  of  taking  children  off  the  streets  and  away  from  evil 
amusement  resorts  out  of  school  hours  and  in  vacation  times. 
Through  the  playground  also  the  evil  influences  of  the  gang  are  dimin- 
ished and  the  socially  important  virtues  are  given  an  opportunity  to 
develop.  The  fresh  air  exercise  is  also  an  important  factor  in 
diminishing  the  social  menace  of  tuberculosis. 

Altogether  the  social  importance  of  the  various  play  and  recreation 
facilities,  both  for  the  crowded  city,  for  the  smaller  towns  and  even  for 
the  rural  districts,  is  abundantly  justified.  The  development  of  play- 
grounds and  their  proper  supervision  thus  appears  to  be  a  matter  of 
general  social  concern  and  a  legitimate  avenue  for  social  expenditure. 
We  have  referred  to  the  playground  movement  as  an  extension  of 
modern  educational  activity.  This  is  true  whether  the  playgrounds 


PLAYGROUND   EXTENSION  125 

are  controlled  by  the  board  of  education  or  by  some  other  agency  such 
as  an  independent  playground  association  or  the  municipality  itself. 
Play  is  an  educator  and  the  need  for  play  is  a  part  of  the  general  need 
of  education,  whether  it  is  handled  by  the  traditional  educational 
machinery  or  not.  The  educational  needs  of  modern  society  are 
broader  than  can  be  met  by  any  single  agency.  This  is  a  principle 
which  has  already  been  emphasized  and  it  should  be  constantly  borne 
in  mind  as  we  consider  the  social  aspects  of  education.  We  are  not, 
however,  breaking  with  tradition  when  we  include  the  development 
of  playgrounds  among  modern  educational  agencies.  The  playground 
has  always  been,  at  least  theoretically,  an  adjunct  of  the  public  school. 
The  recognition  of  the  educational  and  social  possibilities  of  the  play- 
ground has,  however,  outstripped  our  clumsy  and  old-fashioned  edu- 
cational machinery. 

As  has  been  pointed  out  in  other  connections,  the  first  steps  of 
educational  progress  are  often  taken  in  a  more  or  less  general  way  by 
society  as  a  whole  or  by  various  private  and  semi-private  agencies 
outside  the  public  instruments  of  education.  That  this  should  be  so 
is  really  an  indication  that  the  social  body  is  in  a  normal,  healthful 
condition.  It  means  that  it  is  capable  of  feeling  the  pressure  of  new 
needs,  and  that  it  has  sufficient  vitality  to  respond  to  this  pressure 
whether  the  organized  machinery  for  meeting  these  needs  is  available 
or  not.  The  needs  of  a  growing,  of  a  dynamic  community  will  always 
tend  to  outstrip  the  normal  agencies  of  social  expression. 

Here  we  are  not  primarily  concerned  with  the  problems  of  organiza- 
tion and  administration  or  of  the  equipment  of  playgrounds.  These 
are  of  course  important  phases  and  about  them  an  extensive  literature 
has  grown  up.  It  is  the  social  significance  of  the  movement  that  con- 
cerns us.  This  is  well  emphasized  in  the  papers  which  precede.  The 
extracts  from  Mero's  work,  American  Playgrounds,  state  clearly  the 
well  recognized  social  benefits  accruing  to  a  community  from  some 
sort  of  recreation  centers.  He  also  discusses  the  important  problem 
of  the  playground  director  and  by  a  few  telling  statistics  proves  how 
widespread  and  growing  is  the  social  approval  of  the  playground  move- 
ment. Miss  Kennard's  paper  is  reprinted  because  of  its  forceful 
presentation  of  what  the  playground  movement  is  accomplishing  for 
social  betterment  in  one  city,  a  city  which  had,  to  start  with,  almost 


126  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

no  public  sentiment  in  favor  of  such  work.  A  study  of  such  a  paper 
as  this  will  be  of  interest  not  merely  to  the  student  of  educational  and 
sociological  principles,  but  also  to  all  those,  whether  teachers  or  not, 
who  are  concerned  with  the  practical  problems  of  social  amelioration. 
A  study  such  as  we  make  here  should  be  only  preliminary  to  actual 
work.  Hence  each  one  should  familiarize  himself  as  fully  as  possible 
with  the  practical  and  administrative  details  of  the  playground  move- 
ment. The  appended  bibliography  will  be  a  guide  to  these  aspects. 

SELECTED  BIBLIOGRAPHY  OF  PLAY  AND  PLAYGROUNDS 
WITH  SPECIAL  REFERENCE  TO  THEIR  SOCIAL  VALUES 

American  Association  of  Playgrounds,  Vols.   I-III.     Important  for 

general  reference. 
AMMON,  MRS.  S.     "How  to  secure  a  playground,"  Charities,  21 :  235- 

236,    1908.     Playgrounds    in    Massachusetts    secured    through 

referendum  or  initiative  vote. 

BETTS,  L.  W.  "Children  out  of  school  hours,"  Outlook,  75:209. 
Importance  of  play  as  a  part  of  our  educational  system. 

BINGHAM,  MRS.  K.  S.  "The  playgrounds  of  greater  Boston,"  N. 
E.  Mag.,  40 :  185-192,  1909.  A  good  historical  account. 

BROWN,  E.  E.  "Health,  morality  and  the  playground,"  Charities, 
18:500-501,  1907.  Social  need  for  open  country  for  physical 
vigor  and  clean  imagination. 

BURNS,  A.  T.  "Relation  of  playgrounds  to  juvenile  delinquency," 
Charities,  21 :  25-31.  Playgrounds  go  far  toward  solving  the 
problem  of  juvenile  delinquency.  Figures  as  to  effect  in  Chicago 
given. 

CURTIS,  H.  S.  "Playground  progress  and  tendencies,"  Charities, 
18 : 495-499.  1907.'  Progress  of  playground  work  in  various 
cities:  the  functions  of;  location;  regulations,  etc. 

-  "Playgrounds,"  Survey,  22  :  251-253.     1909.     Social  significance 
of  playgrounds,  necessity  of  supervision. 

"Public  provision  and  responsibility  for  playgrounds,"  A.  A.  A., 

35 : 334.     Public    need    for'  playgrounds    in    crowded    districts, 
minister  to  health  and  social  development. 

FARILL,  H.  B.  "The  playground  in  the  prevention  of  tuberculosis," 
Charities,  18:501-506.  1907.  Has  proved  a  great  preventive 
measure. 


PLAYGROUND  EXTENSION 


127 


GULICK,  L.  H.  "Popular  recreation  and  public  morality,"  A.  A.  A., 
July,  1909. 

"Teaching   American   children   to   play/'   Craftsman,    15:192.     * 
Self-control   acquired   in   play:    eliminates   racial   antagonism; 
cultivates  initiative;   has  decided  moral  value. 

-"The  business  of  play,"  Charities,  20:458-462.  1908.  Play- 
grounds must  be  provided  where  it  is  illegal  to  play  in  streets. 
Care  of  boys  and  girls  insures  welfare  of  society. 

HAFER,  M.  R.  "Plays  and  playgrounds,"  Charities,  20:661-666. 
Need  of  expert  supervision:  value  as  an  educational  agency. 

JEROME,  MRS.  A.  H.  "Playground  as  a  social  center,"  A.  A.  A., 
35  :  34S-349-  First  developed  for  hygienic  reasons ;  now  seen 
to  have  deep  social  significance:  moral  value  emphasized. 

KENNARD,  BEULAH.  "Pittsburgh's playgrounds,"  Survey,  22  : 184-196. 
Conditions  for,  most  unpromising;  successful  development; 
proofs  of  value  for  both  children  and  parents ;  have  counteracted 
many  evil  social  tendencies.  See  also  the  Reports  of  the  Pitts- 
burgh Playground  Association. 

-  "Playground  for  children  at  home,"  A.  A.  A.,  35  :  374.  Public 
school,  home  and  neighborhood  do  not  satisfy  the  child's  social 
instincts ;  the  need  of  playgrounds,  their  moral  educative  value. 

LEE,  JOSEPH.  "Play  as  a  school  of  the  citizen,"  Charities,  18:486- 
491.  Games  develop  justice  in  decision,  knowledge  of  rule- 
making,  honesty,  fairness ;  the  need  of  a  leader. 

"Playground   education,"  Ed.  Rev.,  22:449.     Good  discussion 
of  the  socializing  effects. 

LELAND,  A.  "Playground  self-government,"  Charities,  12:586. 
Successful  experience  in  children  making  their  own  laws. 

LINDSEY,  B.  B.  "Public  playgrounds  and  juvenile  delinquency," 
Ind.,  65  :  420,  1908.  Play  a  preventive  of  crime.  State  in  caring 
for  its  children  is  caring  for  itself. 

McNuxT,  J.  L.  "Chicago's  ten  million  dollar  experiment  in  social 
redemption,"  Ind.,  57  :  612.  Reform  schools  not  filled  with 
country  boys  but  the  city  children  with  no  play  opportunities. 

"Massachusetts  Playground  Vote,"  Charities,  21:435.  Cities  of 
10,000  or  over  may  vote  on  playgrounds;  23  cities  voted  over- 
whelmingly in  favor  of;  difficulty  of  securing  grounds. 

MERO,  E.  B.  American  Playgrounds.  Boston,  1909.  A  general 
survey  of  the  social  need  and  function;  methods  of  equipping; 
work  of,  etc.  A  valuable  book. 


128  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

PERRY,  C.  Wider  Use  of  the  School  Plant.  New  York,  1910.  Various 
chapters  deal  with  different  phases  of  the  public  recreation 
movement. 

"Play  Congress,  Second,"  Charities,  21:13-25.  1908.  Effect  of 
play  upon  work;  upon  delinquency  and  crime.  Many  different 
phases  discussed. 

"Plays  and  Playgrounds,"  Charities,  40:470-476.  Playgrounds 
as  social  centers;  preventive  of  crime;  an  educational  agency; 
neighborhood  playgrounds. 

POOLE,  ERNEST.     "Chicago's  public  playgrounds,"  Outlook,  87:  775 
781.     1907.    Describes  the  development  of  the  system. 

Rns,  JACOB,  A.  "Playgrounds  for  city  schools,"  Century,  old  series, 
48:657-666.  More  opportunity  for  recreation  would  decrease 
truancy. 

SCUDDER,  MYRON,  T.  "Organized  play  in  the  country,"  Charities, 
1 8 :  547-556.  Country  children  need  direction  and  help  in  play. 
An  account  of  some  practical  work  in  N.  J.  and  N.  Y. 

STEWART,  S.  T.     "Recreation  centers  in  city  of  New  York,"  Char 

1 8 :  510.     Describes  the  type  of  recreation  undertaken  in  that  city, 

TAYLOR,   G.   R.     "Playgrounds  in   185   cities,"  Charities,   21:4-6. 
Describes  the  rapid  spread  of  the  movement;  $1,000,000 
month  expended  at  date  of  article. 

VEILLER,  L.    "Social  value  of  playgrounds  in  crowded  districts/ 
Charities,  18:507-510.     1907.    A  valuable  article. 

WARDER,  R.  D.    "Vacation  playgrounds,"  N.  S.  S.  E.    Pt.  I,  22-32 
1911. 


; 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE  SCHOOL  GARDEN,  ITS  EDUCATIONAL  AND  SOCIAL  VALUE 

Social  Significance  of  School  Gardens 

A  SCHOOL  garden  may  be  defined  as  any  garden  where  children  are 
taught  to  care  for  flowers,  or  vegetables,  or  both,  by  one  who  can, 
while  teaching  the  life  history  of  the  plants  and  of  their  friends  and 
enemies,  instill  in  the  children  a  love  of  outdoor  work  and  such  knowl- 
edge of  natural  forces  and  their  laws  as  shall  develop  character  and 
efficiency. 

To  make  it  apparent  that  size  is  not  a  crucial  matter,  a  second 
definition  may  be  that  it  "  is  any  garden  in  which  a  boy  or  girl  of  school 
age  takes  an  active  interest.  It  may  be  a  tiny  seedling  growing  in 
a  flowerpot  indoors  or  an  extensive  series  of  garden  crops  in  a  large 
garden  outdoors.  The  gardens  may  be  collective  or  individual  or 
both.  In  all  these  cases  the  plants  to  be  grown  are  much  the  same 
and  the  methods  involved  in  growing  them  are  similar/' l  while  the 
underlying  purpose  of  the  teaching  is  threefold;  educational,  industrial, 
and  social  —  or  moral,  since  it  is  only  in  relation  to  others  that  moral 
conduct  or  character  exists.  1 

As  the  founder  of  the  children's  school  farm  in  DeWitt  Clinton 
Park,  New  York,  wrote  in  her  first  report :  — 

"  I  did  not  start  a  garden  simply  to  grow  a  few  vegetables  and 
flowers.  The  garden  was  used  as  a  means  to  show  how  willing  and  / 
anxious  children  are  to  work,  and  to  teach  them  in  their  work  some 
necessary  civic  virtues :  private  care  of  public  property,  economy, 
honesty,  application,  concentration,  self-government,  civic  pride,  jus- 
tice, the  dignity  of  labor,  and  the  love  of  nature  by  opening  to 
their  minds  the  little  we  know  of  her  mysteries,  more  wonderful  than 
any  fairy  tale."  2 

The  virtues  here  enumerated  can  best  be  taught  in  the  school  garden 
with  the  individual  plot  and  ownership,  because  there  the  interest  is 
greater,  the  rewards  are  more  desirable,  and  cause  and  effect  are  more 

1  Weed  and  Emerson,  The  School  Garden  Book,  p.  3. 

*  Mrs.  Henry  Parsons  in  Report  of  the  First  Children's  School  Farm  in  New  York  City 
for  1902-1004. 

K  I2Q 


130  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

frequently  and  clearly  demonstrable.  The  cultivation  of  such  vir- 
tues is  at  the  minimum  when  the  garden  of  a  school  is  only  a  bit 
of  decorative  planting  in  the  care  of  which  the  children  have  no  part. 
School-ground  decoration  of  this  type  is  better  than  none,  for  like 
pictures  on  the  schoolroom  walls,  it  sends  out  a  daily  influence  in  behalf 
of  orderliness  and  beauty.  So  much  the  more  reason  why  the  decora- 
tive planting  should  be  of  the  best,  that  it  may  teach  symmetry  of 
arrangement,  harmony  of  line  and  color,  and  unity  throughout. 

Such  a  garden  may  inspire  some  degree  of  civic  pride  in  the  children 
and  some  respect  for  public  property  through  the  feeling  that  their 
school  home  is  superior  to  that  of  others.  But  these  ideas  are  likely 
to  be  limited,  in  practical  results,  to  children  who  have  an  eye  for 
natural  beauty.  Introduce  but  a  little  bulb  planting  by  the  children 
however,  a  little  active  participation  in  the  care  of  the  plants  anc 
grounds,  and  at  once  to  each  and  every  child  the  garden  becomes 
"  our  "  garden,  and  an  injury  to  it  a  personal  affair;  any  praise  or 
merit  becomes  a  comment  about  something  "  I  made  or  helped  to 
make."  With  this  sense  of  participation  comes  genuine  private 
care  of  public  property.  Of  necessity,  there  must  follow  with  this 
kind  of  interest  many  self-determined  convictions  on  the  part  of  the 
child  as  to  what  is  morally  as  well  as  culturally  right  and  wrong  in 
the  garden.  Lessons  like  these  become  gradually  ingrained  modes 
or  habits  of  thought,  and  the  child  is  toughened  morally. 

The  larger  the  field  the  gardening  offers,  other  things  being  equal 
the  greater  the  opportunity  for  development  of  the  child.     Hence 
the  plea  for  individual  beds  and  also  for  cooperative  labor  on  large 
areas,  as  on  paths  and  on  class  or  sample  plots.    The  union  of  these 
two  kinds  of  tasks  best  illustrates  life  where  each  individual  works  ou 
his  own  salvation ;   if  happily  and  usefully,  he  must  do  it  with  due 
consideration  for  others  and  for  his  own  share  of  responsibility  for  the 
public  good.     .     .     . 

As  a  rule,  the  normal  schools  have  been  the  first  to  indorse  the  schoo 
garden  and  to  try  out  its  value,  while  boards  of  education  have  viewec 
it  as  a  new  thing  requiring  it  to  prove  its  educational  and  social  worth 
Frequently  they  give  it  a  meager  support,  recognizing  it  perhaps  by 
the  appointment  of  a  nature  study  teacher  as  a  supervisor  of  schoo 
gardens,  but  granting  little  or  no  money  toward  the  maintenance  o 
the  garden  or  a  reasonable  salary  to  cover  the  summer's  work  of  super 
vision.     Sometimes  this  lack  of  support  is  due  to  a  division  of  opinion 
among  the  school  commissioners  or  among  members  of  the  boards  o 
estimate.     It  may  meet  the  opposition  of  the  older  and  more  con 
servative  principals  of  the  city,  or  of  a  ward  politician  who  sees  no 
sense  in  it  and  is  afraid  that  the  voters  will  look  upon  it  as  a  new  fad 
or  a  new  excuse  for  increasing  taxes. 


THE  SCHOOL   GARDEN  131 

Generally,  the  school  garden  idea  has  captured  the  educational 
leaders  in  our  country,  made  friends  for  itself  among  the  most  pro- 
gressive of  our  teachers,  old  and  new,  and  won  the  children  wherever 
it  has  been  tried.  One  drawback  to  its  rapid  growth  is  that  there  is 
still  confusion  because  of  the  stress  that  has  been  laid  sometimes  upon 
theoretical  views;  or  upon  its  peculiar  fitness  to  meet  the  special 
needs  of  particular  places.  These  lesser  questions  can  be  safely  left 
to  settle  themselves,  for  a  school  garden  is  like  a  bank  in  that  it  may 
be  drawn  upon  for  values  of  different  kinds  to  meet  different  needs,  as 
one  may  require  money  in  the  form  of  gold  or  silver,  check  or  draft. 
In  a  school  garden  the  educational,  economic,  aesthetic,  utilitarian, 
or  sociological  value  may  be  made  most  prominent,  according  to  cir- 
cumstances. Its  power  for  developing  a  child's  nature  should  not 
be  confined  to  only  one  of  these  viewpoints ;  neither  should  it  be  con- 
sidered appropriate  to  one  stratum  of  society  or  to  a  few  classes  of 
children  only.  It  may  ease  the  condition  of  the  poor  and  bring  profit 
and  pleasure  to  their  children.  To  the  children  of  the  rich  and  well 
to  do  it  will  give  pleasure,  and  should  teach  some  needed  lessons  in 
personal  responsibility  and  in  the  consequences  of  broken  laws  from 
which  it  is  human  nature  to  think  that  one  may  escape. 

So  long  as  the  educational  value  of  school  gardens  is  not  fully  rec- 
ognized by  local  school  boards,  just  so  long  will  they  be  dependent 
for  their  support  upon  philanthropic  societies  or  upon  the  good  will 
of  private  individuals,  and  be  subject  to  the  discouragement  of  loose 
tenure  and  shift  of  locality  as  land  values  rise.  Until  very  recently 
those  interested  in  agriculture  or  horticulture  or  in  attempts  to  benefit 
social  conditions  have  been  most  active  in  establishing  them.1 

It  is  interesting  to  note  how  many  gardens  like  those  at  Yonkers, 
at  Pittsburgh,  at  Dubuque,  and  in  part  at  Cleveland,  have  developed 
into  social  centers.  Among  educators,  friends  of  the  school  garden 
are  multiplying  rapidly,  and  increasing  numbers  believe  "  that  in- 
struction such  as  is  given  in  the  school  garden  is  of  the  right  kind.  It 
arouses  interest  in  real  things ;  it  develops  judgment ;  it  brings  the 
child  in  contact  with  his  environment,  and,  above  all,  it  gives  that 
opportunity  for  placing  responsibility  on  the  child  without  which 

1  The  National  Plant,  Flower  and  Fruit  Guild  encourages  school  gardens  and  through  its 
local  branches  assists  in  starting  them. 

The  International  School  Farm  League  seeks  to  develop  the  school  garden  in  connection 
with  schools,  parks,  institutions  and  day  camps,  as  an  educational,  recreational,  sociological 
and  'remedial  agency. 

The  Gardening  Association  of  America,  organized  October,  1909,  in  Buffalo,  gives  equal 
emphasis  to  vacant  lot  and  school  gardening  and  will  encourage  both  because  of  their 
tendency  to  benefit  the  poor,  to  show  the  power  of  self-help,  to  further  agricultural  interests, 
to  lessen  the  evil  influences  of  city  life  and  to  cultivate  a  love  of  growing  plants. 


132  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

character  is  not  developed.  The  activities  of  school  garden  work  are 
natural  to  the  child  and  give  much  needed  respite  from  schoolroom 
restraint.  .  .  .  The  child's  mind  gets  growth  out  of  them  because 
it  can  understand  them.  Not  only  does  the  school  garden  serve  to 
educate  and  train,  but  it  supplies  a  kind  of  knowledge  that  is  highly 
useful  and  cultivates  a  taste  for  an  honorable  and  remunerative 
vocation."  l 

Perhaps,  best  of  all,  is  that  teaching  of  the  saner  and  sweeter  side 
of  life  which  comes  when  the  school  garden  takes  the  child  off  the  cit> 
streets,  away  from  crowded  alleys,  vicious  surroundings,  and,  in 
country,  often  from  misspent  leisure;  when  it  finds  happy  work  for 
idle  hands,  health  for  enfeebled  bodies,  and  training  for  the  will  anc 
affections.  If  you  doubt  the  last  service,  watch  the  child's  love  for 
the  flowers  and  vegetables  he  has  to  grow,  and  the  affectionate  pride 
of  his  parents  in  the  success  of  his  garden.  Sometimes  a  selfish  in- 
terest in  what  the  child  can  provide  for  the  family  table  has  brought 
him  more  consideration  and  developed  greater  gentleness  and  co- 
operation in  the  family  life.  It  has  proved  just  as  well  to  "  stand  in 
with  the  little  farmer  who  can  provide  otherwise  unattainable  delicacies 
of  fresh  vegetables,  salads  and  soup  materials. 

All  these  things  make  any  kind  of  a  garden  worth  while,  and,  if  we 
utilize  the  interest  in  it  to  freshen  the  wearisome  tasks  of  the  school- 
room, there  is  an  added  value.  The  dullest  child  will  brighten  as  he 
or  she  lays  out  the  little  plot,  figures  out  the  crops,  or  calculates  the 
gains.  The  telling  of  a  story  with  innocent  and  pleasurable  self 
interest  as  the  pivotal  point,  opens  a  way  into  an  easier  and  better 
land  of  composition  than  was  dreamed  of  before :  while  history  and 
geography,  textiles,  food  and  clothing  have  surprising  relations  to 
a  garden  which  an  occasional  apt  reference  or  illustration  can  bring 
out.  More  and  more  it  is  being  made  the  partner  of  physical  geog- 
raphy. In  every  school  it  should  be  the  twin  of  nature  study  and 
usually  the  companion  of  manual  training.  It  is  easy  to  show  how 
much  we  owe  to  the  husbandman ;  how  the  life  of  the  whole  round 
world  is  interdependent,  or,  in  a  child's  phraseology,  "  hangs  to- 
gether " ;  how  tilling  of  the  soil  is  a  fundamental  necessity.  No 
child  who  has  ever  loved  a  garden  will  despise  the  farmer,  for  he  has 
learned  by  experience  to  respect  manual  labor ;  and  that  brains  and 
hands  must  work  together  to  bring  good  crops.  .  .  . 

School  gardens  may  be  regarded  from  several  points  of  view  and 
cultivated  with  one  or  more  of  several  aims  in  mind  so  far  as  the  im- 
mediate or  future  good  of  the  child  is  concerned.  But  whatever  the 
special  purpose,  there  should  be  kept  in  mind  the  far  reaching  in- 
fluences that  will  pervade  a  neighborhood  when  a  successful  school 

1W.  J.  Spillman,  Significance  of  the  School  Garden  Movement. 


THE   SCHOOL   GARDEN  133 

garden  so  inspires  the  children  and  parents  that  little  gardens  in  home 
yard  or  window  box  spring  up  as  restful,  cheerful  bits  of  color.  These 
are  a  bond  of  sympathy  and  pleasure  among  the  poor,  the  well-to-do, 
and  the  wealthy.  There  is  no  hobby  that  may  be  so  inexpensive ;  no 
subject  of  conversation  less  likely  to  become  disagreeably  personal; 
no  topic  offering  better  opportunities  of  give  and  take  in  the  matter 
of  experience  than  that  of  flowers.  So  it  follows  that  a  love  of  flowers 
tends  to  level  class  distinctions ;  to  give  openings  for  real  friendliness 
based  upon  mutual  interests  among  people  whose  business  and  en- 
vironment may  be  vastly  different.  Moreover,  the  individual  better- 
ment that  comes  from  any  worthy  hobby  follows  in  the  wake  of  flower 
culture.  .  .  . 

At  the  present  time  there  are,  as  has  been  said,  school  gardens  of 
many  varying  kinds  carried  on  for  different  immediate  ends,  though 
with  the  one  underlying  and  universal  purpose  of  helping  the  children 
to  an  all-round  development.  Some  of  these  gardens  will  be  briefly 
sketched.  It  is  probably  true  that  the  mental  picture  which  the  term 
"  school  garden  "  most  frequently  calls  up  is  that  of  a  plot  of  ground 
laid  out  in  slim  individual  beds  where  the  common  vegetables,  together 
with  one  or  two  varieties  of  flowers,  are  grown ;  and  larger  areas  for 
flowers  and  observations,  or  sample  plots,  on  which  are  grown  various 
plants  including  the  common  troublesome  garden  weeds.  In  such  a 
garden  the  children  may  learn  the  joy  of  individual  ownership  and  of 
cooperative  or  group  work  as  well.  They  will  at  the  same  time, 
through  sharing  in  the  work  on  the  larger  plots,  become  familiar  with 
a  wider  range  of  plant  life  than  that  which  could  be  grown  on  their 
own  small  plots.  Such  a  mental  picture  may  have  for  its  setting  the 
congested  quarter  of  a  great  city,  a  bit  of  public  park  or  playground, 
a  part  of  town  or  village  schoolyard,  or  it  may  be  an  isolated  vacant  lot 
transformed. 

To  know  how  to  plan,  to  care  for  and  conduct  such  a  garden  re- 
quires the  fundamental  knowledge  necessary  to  success  in  carrying 
on  any  kind  of  a  school  garden.  For  this  reason,  and  because  it  is 
more  likely  to  be  the  sort  of  garden  attempted  in  any  locality  as  an 
initial  experiment,  it  is  here  taken  as  the  basic  type,  and  to  it  and  the 
work  that  may  be  centered  in  it,  the  greater  number  of  the  following 
chapters  are  devoted.  One  may  find  such  gardens  in  the  East  and 
South,  in  our  Middle  and  Western  states,  in  Canada  and  in  the  West 
Indies,  though  in  the  last  the  nature  of  the  crops  will  vary  considerably 
from  the  uniformity  common  on  the  continent.  Its  plots  may  be  tiny 
or  big,  its  equipment  small  or  large,  the  scope  of  its  work  narrow  or 
wide,  its  quality  and  quantity  graded  or  ungraded ;  but  as  far  as  it 
goes,  its  teaching  and  experience  are  fundamental,  whether  for  teacher 
or  child.  So  to  this  "  fundamental  type  "  we  give  par  excellence  the 


I34  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

name  "  school  garden,"  because  in  the  mind  of  psychologist,  educator 
and  teacher,  it  is  a  school  in  which  to  cultivate,  to  develop,  children 
quite  as  much  as  or  more  than  to  teach  them  how  to  grow  flowers  or 
to  mature  vegetables. 

This  fundamental  type  offers  the  largest  cultural  development  for 
children  in  the  smallest  area.  It  demands  of  the  teacher  either  little 
or  much  training,  according  to  the  scope  of  work  carried  on  in  it. 
Nowhere  is  less  previous  experience  required  except  in  the  tiny  posy 
garden  or  where,  as  in  some  formal  gardens,  the  work  of  teacher  and 
children  is  confined  to  a  very  small  amount  of  supervised  planting, 
whether  of  bulbs  or  seeds,  and  to  the  necessary  later  care  in  watering 
and  in  keeping  the  soil  loose.  From  the  likeness  of  much  of  the  work 
in  the  "  fundamental  type  "  to  truck  gardening,  and  from  the  chil- 
dren's delight  in  being  known  as  little  farmers,  owing  to  their  small 
farms,  this  basic  type  might  be  called  not  only  the  "  school  garden," 
but  the  "  school  garden  farm."  .  .  . 

It  is  a  far  cry  from  the  complete  outfit  of  the  ideal  garden  to  taking 
up  the  pavement  in  a  school  yard  and  making  two  by  two  foot  beds 
for  tiny  farms.     But,  as  one  cannot  expect  completeness,  so  one  may 
hope  to  avoid  such  impoverishment  as  the  two  by  two  foot  plots 
would  imply.     If  you  cannot  do  any  better,  begin  with  the  two  by  two 
foot  bed  and  comfort  yourself  with  the  thought  of  the  lesser  sum  of 
money  needed  and  the  probability  that  the  question  of  soil  will  resolv 
itself  into  buying  a  few  bushels  or,  at  most,  a  few  loads  of  good  garde; 
soil,  such  as  would  be  necessary  in  the  case  of  a  roof  garden.      I: 
cities,  parts,  so  to  speak,  of  the  ideal  garden  may  be  scattered  judi 
ciously  among  the  various  schools,  in  their  yards  or  on  near-by  vacan 
lots.     For  instance,  one  school  may  have  only  the  garden  for  school- 
ground  decoration,  very  likely  of  the  formal  sort.     Here,  where  plant 
lines  must  harmonize  with  architectural  lines  and  a  color  scheme  of 
continual  bloom  be  carried  out,  the  training  of  a  landscape  gardener, 
or  the  advice  of  an  expert,  is  necessary.     But  if  the  outline  of  such  a 
garden  be  prepared,  the  teacher  can  follow  it ;  the  children  can  help 
in  cultivating  the  hedges,  trees  and  flowers.     The  garden  becomes  an 
object  lesson  and  pleasure  to  the  neighborhood  and  of  permanent  and 
increasing  value  to  the  school.     To  the  children,  it  will  be  a  means  of 
development  in  more  than  one  direction. 

A  pretty  story  is  told  in  connection  with  the  formal  garden  of  the 
Watterson  School,  Cleveland,  Ohio.  At  the  third  clipping  of  their 
privet  hedge  the  cuttings  were  taken  into  the  schoolroom  and  the 
children  were  asked  if  they  cared  enough  for  their  hedge  to  think  that 
other  children  in  a  distant  school  building  would  also  like  to  own  one. 
They  were  quite  sure  that  a  hedge  like  theirs  would  be  much  appre- 
ciated. The  curator  of  the  school  gardens  then  explained  that  if  the 


THE   SCHOOL   GARDEN  135 

Watterson  children  were  willing,  besides  giving  the  cuttings,  to  do 
a  little  work  for  those  distant  schoolmates,  the  latter  could  have  a 
hedge.  They  cheerfully  agreed  to  help.  For  busy  work,  they  stripped 
the  leaves.  Then,  they  gathered  the  cuttings  into  groups  of  twos  and 
threes,  of  fives  and  tens,  and  then  into  fifties.  These  large  bundles 
were  sent  to  another  school  where  the  children  would  lend  their  cold 
frames  to  "  bank  "  or  house  the  cuttings  during  the  winter  and  to 
give  them  an  early  start  so  that  the  new  hedge  would  be  ready  as  soon 
as  possible  to  make  rapid  and  sturdy  growth.  Some  of  the  children 
in  the  Watterson  School  were  given  the  stripped  leaves,  with  which  they 
were  told  to  lay  out  on  their  desks  designs  of  any  shape.  Later,  there 
was  a  little  nature  study  talk  upon  the  construction  of  the  leaf  and  how 
it  serves  the  parent  plant,  and  attention  was  called  to  the  difference 
in  color  of  the  upper  and  under  sides.  The  children  were  asked  to 
remake  their  designs,  using  the  two  shades  for  color  effect.  They  were 
promised  that  they  would  be  shown  how  the  young  plants  had  lain 
dormant  through  the  winter  and  how  they  started  into  life  in  the  early 
spring,  and  were  told  that  they  could  visit  the  other  school  to  see  the 
hedge  which  they  had  prepared  for  its  boys  and  girls. 

The  story  suggests  gardens  for  special  purposes ;  as  for  preparation 
for  truck  farming  ("  training  gardens  ") ;  for  exchange  of  plants ; 
for  forcing ;  for  nursery  or  forestry  purposes ;  or  the  kitchen  garden 
which  might  be  attached  to  a  school  where  the  cooking  courses  were 
particularly  good.  In  connection  with  any  of  these  gardens,  there 
might  be  a  few  flowers  or  a  floral  border  so  that  the  work  could  be 
partly  individual,  partly  cooperative.  In  the  kitchen  garden  there 
could  be,  in  addition,  observation  plots  showing  sweet  herbs,  grains, 
flax,  hemp  and  cotton,  or  the  raw  products  necessary  for  the  com- 
monest household  tasks.  Observation  plots  on  a  large  numerical 
scale  are  necessary  in  botanical  gardens  laid  out  to  show  the  classifi- 
cation of  plants  by  families  or  according  to  their  industrial  or  com- 
mercial uses.  Here,  again,  plots  can  be  apportioned  to  individual 
children,  and  special  cultural  directions  may  be  given  to  each  when 
necessary.  The  exchange  garden  above  referred  to  is  carried  on  per- 
haps as  much  for  the  benefit  of  the  parents  as  for  the  little  ones.  It 
is  a  central  garden  to  which  men,  women  and  children  can  bring  their 
extra  or  duplicate  plants  and  exchange  them  for  those  of  which  others 
had  a  surplus.  In  Cleveland  such  a  garden  made  in  one  year  20,000 
exchanges.  That  means  not  only  a  good  deal  of  pleasure,  but  much 
return  for  little  money.  .  .  . 

Sometimes  the  easiest  and  most  tactful  way  to  secure  a  school 
garden  in  a  remote  community  is  to  begin  with  a  topographical  or 
chart  garden ;  that  is,  one  based  on  exploration  of  the  surrounding 
country.  Such  would  naturally  lead  up  to  interest  in  a  wild  flower 


136  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

garden  and  to  the  decoration  of  the  school  gardens.  Where  the  school- 
house  is  an  ugly  building  on  a  small,  unsightly  lot,  and  where  farmers 
have  no  use  for  "  fads,"  the  topographical  garden  may  be  the  only 
one  possible.  It  may  be  well,  therefore,  to  make  very  clear  what  is 
meant,  especially  as  through  such  means  a  very  conservative  com- 
munity may  sometimes  be  led  to  take  a  lively  interest  not  only  in 
improving  the  school  premises,  but  in  permitting  an  experiment  in 
vegetable  gardening,  which  later  may  prove  a  boon  to  both  adults 
and  children. 

Most  children  are  glad  to  tell  you  where  a  unique  tree,  a  noticeable 
bush  or  rare  flower,  is  to  be  found.  With  the  schoolhouse  as  a  starting 
point,  map  out  the  way  to  find  it.  Gradually  enlarge  the  drawing 
to  indicate  the  contour  of  the  land  as  the  children  describe  road,  hill, 
swamp  or  plain.  Mark  upon  it  the  noticeable  trees  of  houses  or  even 
big  rocks  or  bowlders.  Later  fill  in  the  map  so  as  to  suggest  the  kinds 
of  growth  in  the  bordering  woods  or  meadows,  first  the  larger  sorts  and 
then  the  smaller,  gathering  as  you  chart  them  topics  for  talks  to  which 
a  part  of  one  day  each  week  may  be  given.  At  these  times,  the  teacher 
should  help  the  children  sort  out  the  knowledge  which  each  has  con- 
tributed, and  should  amplify  and  intensify  it  for  all.  Some  of  the 
children  will  fetch  specimens.  With  a  little  encouragement,  they  will 
be  willing  to  bring  enough  earth,  if  necessary,  to  start  a  wild  flower 
garden,  like  the  one  at  the  George  Putnam  School  previously  men- 
tioned as  the  first  in  America,  or  the  10  by  100  foot  strip  of  wild  flower 
garden  at  the  Cobbett  School,  Lynn,  Massachusetts,  where  several 
hundred  shrubs,  woody  vines,  ferns  and  herbs  are  gathered.  "  From 
hepatica  and  bloodroot  to  aster  and  witch  hazel  they  flourish  in  their 
season."  Some  of  the  rarer  plants  were  brought  or  sent  from  central 
New  York,  from  New  Hampshire  and  from  distant  parts  of  Massa- 
chusetts. 

However,  one  need  not  in  any  rural  district  go  far  to  find  suitable 
material  for  fern  or  wild  flower  border,  for  shrubbery  or  for  trees  fit 
to  be  transplanted:  There  are  few  plants  that,  like  the  arbutus  and 
fringed  gentian,  rebel  at  civilization,  and  many  that  increase  in  size 
and  brilliancy  under  cultivation.  That  they  are  hardy,  and  persistent 
when  once  rooted,  twenty  years7  experience  in  gardening  in  a  city 
back  yard  has  proved.  Dutchman's  breeches  (Dicentra),  hepatica, 
spring  beauty,  anemone,  jack-in-the-pulpit,  columbine,  adder's  tongue, 
asters,  goldenrod,  violets  of  several  kinds,  the  rose  marsh  mallow  and 
the  wild  sunflower  all  bear  transplanting  and  cultivation.  Rasp- 
berry vines  and  blackberry  bushes  can  be  utilized  for  the  garden  as 
well  as  wild  grape,  woodbine  or  Virginia  creeper,  bittersweet,  clematis 
and  some  of  the  other  native  vines.  The  hobble  bush  has  beauty  of 
blossom  and  leafage.  Thorn  apple,  flowering  dogwood,  the  elders, 


THE  SCHOOL   GARDEN  137 

wild  barberry  and  bob  sumac  provide  good  shrubbery,  and  several  of 
them  furnish  rich  color  and  effective  outlines  in  the  fall  and  winter. 
The  mountain  ash  and  the  white  birch  are  treasures,  and  many  a  seed- 
ling elm,  oak  or  maple  is  easily  found. 

In  some  way  establish  a  bond  of  interest  between  the  school  and 
the  home  growing  of  flowers.  Start  a  plant  or  two  in  the  schoolroom 
window.1  One  teacher  in  a  rural  school  began  his  flower  garden  with 
a  single  fuchsia  and  in  two  or  three  years  had  a  large  family  of  plants, 
including  many  grandchildren  of  the  original  flower.  In  fact,  that 
family  became  so  numerous  under  judicious  slippings  that  its  descend- 
ants were  farmed  out  or  given  for  adoption  into  the  homes  of  grateful 
children  who  frequently  offered  slips  of  other  flowers  in  return.  To 
ask  for  a  slip  is  in  many  communities  a  most  acceptable  compliment 
to  the  successful  grower  of  house  plants.  Many  of  the  begonias  are 
easily  propagated  from  pieces  of  stem  or  leaf,  and  their  bright  colors 
and  unique  leafage  make  them  universally  pleasing.  For  outdoor 
work  about  the  school,  ask  for  roots  of  lilac,  forsythia  or  yellow 
flowering  willow,  flowering  almond  or  flowering  quince,  bridal 
wreath  or  peonies. 

Strive  for  a  clean  school  yard  as  you  would  for  a  clean  schoolroom, 
but  do  not  stop  there.  Beauty  has  its  moral  effect  on  a  child.  It  is 
useless  to  expect  untarnished  morality  from  children  whose  parents 
provide  ramshackle  outbuildings  and  schools  uninteresting  and  re- 
pellent outside  and  in,  where  no  playgrounds  exist  and  where  no  pro- 
vision is  made  to  keep  investigating  minds  safely  busy  when  not 
occupied  with  lessons.  Clothe  your  outbuildings  with  vines,  screen 
them  with  groups  of  trees,  plant  your  grounds  with  things  that  invite 
the  children  to  note  their  growth  or  to  enjoy  their  welcome  shade. 
Make  school  a  delightful  place  in  which  to  linger  because  it  has  so 
many  charming  interests.  Childish  activity  whether  of  mind  or  body 
needs  direction.  As  in  the  childhood  of  the  race,  morality  was  an  un- 
known thing,  so,  too,  in  childhood,  some  of  the  evils  that  we  most 
deplore  are  at  certain  ages  largely  the  outburst  of  the  investigating 
spirit  spending  itself  upon  what  is  near  at  hand  in  default  of  better, 
happier  things  with  which  to  fill  otherwise  vacant  moments. 

No  scheme  or  plan  for  the  decoration  of  the  rural  school  can  be  com- 
pleted in  one  season,  but  a  beginning,  pleasing  to  the  eye,  is  a  good 
thing,  a  fertile  seed  of  usefulness. 

In  rural  districts,  gardens  for  experiment  or  sample  plots  for  ob- 
servation are  sometimes  possible  even  on  a  relatively  microscopic 
scale.  Classroom  demonstration  of  the  qualities  of  soils  and  other 

1  At  the  least,  one  can  have  that  always  interesting  thing,  an  eggshell  garden,  for  it  needs 
but  a  few  seeds,  one  or  two  of  them  planted  in  each  shell  that  has  been  filled  with  a  little 
rich  soil.  Later  the  seedlings  may  be  transplanted  into  the  school  or  home  garden. 


138  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

experiments  may  illustrate  the  growth  upon  these  small  plots.  The 
country  boy,  of  course,  has  no  use  for  farming  on  tiny  beds  that  to  city 
children  seem  veritable  plantations.  Such  baby  farming  and  such 
instruction  in  the  first  use  of  tools  as  would  be  welcome  in  the  city 
would  be  ridiculous  in  the  country.  Possibly  a  farmer's  boy  hates 
the  whole  business  of  farming  and  longs  for  the  day  when  he  can  get 
away  from  it  and  enjoy  life  more  as  he  fancies  his  city  cousins  do. 
His  father,  perhaps,  has  no  use  for  the  new  school  frills,  and  does  not 
want  interference  or  intrusion  on  his  home  ground.  But  it  may  be 
feasible  to  introduce  school  gardening  by  suggesting  that  one  boy  or 
group  of  boys  should  conduct  home  experiments,  as,  for  instance,  with 
two  apple  trees  or  two  patches  of  potatoes,  spraying  the  one  and  not 
the  other,  and  having  different  children  make  occasional  visits  to  com- 
pare notes. 

On  the  other  hand,  throughout  New  England  and  New  York, 
many  schoolhouses  have  barely  ground  enough  for  the  children's 
recess.  Yet  even  so,  if  a  few  feet  of  ground  could  be  planted,  for 
example,  to  cabbages  or  potatoes,  an  experiment  could  be  conducted 
that  would  touch  the  taxpayer's  pocket,  dissolve  the  shell  of  prejudice, 
and  win  at  least  a  grudging  acknowledgment  that  there  is  some  merit 
in  school  gardening.  Such  a  plot  could  be  divided  into  halves  and  one 
part  planted  with  selected  eyes  from  large,  well-formed  potatoes,  while 
the  other  half  should  be  seeded  with  eyes  from  small  or  indifferent 
stock.  One  half  of  each  division  should  be  carefully  sprayed  against 
the  ravages  of  the  potato  bug.  The  other  half  should  be  left  to  care 
for  itself.  The  result  would  show  the  relative  value  of  the  crops  in 
a  most  convincing  way.  Ten  cabbages  would  demonstrate  the  ravages 
of  the  common  cabbage  butterfly  and,  incidentally,  of  the  cabbage 
root  maggot  and  the  flea  beetle  in  localities  where  they  abound.  Four 
heads  of  cabbage  should  be  carefully  screened  by  one  piece  of  cheese 
cloth  or  netting  and  four  by  another,  while  two  may  be  left  uncovered. 
Those  uncovered  will  be  exposed  while  young  seedlings  and  tender 
plants  to  attacks  of  the  beetle  and  the  maggot.  Those  covered  will  be 
protected  from  the  cabbage  butterfly ;  but  it  is  proposed  to  introduce 
under  one  of  the  screens  all  the  white  butterflies  of  this  variety  of 
pierids  which  the  children  may  catch.  Later,  the  riddled  leaves  of 
one  group  of  plants  will  show  the  ravages  of  the  caterpillar  hatched 
from  the  butterflies'  eggs,  and  the  life  history  of  the  insect  may  be 
presented  as  a  complete  story  for  the  children.  .  .  . 

Many  schools  in  country  districts  could  follow  the  custom  adopted 
in  the  cities  of  giving  out  seeds  for  the  children  to  plant  in  their  home 
gardens,  and  the  teacher's  social  call  might  include  supervision  of 
these.  Speaking  of  the  work  in  Concord  Normal  School,  Athens, 
West  Virginia,  where  seeds  are  distributed  to  the  children  to  be  planted 


THE   SCHOOL  GARDEN  139 

in  home  plots  with  supervision  and  advice  by  the  head  of  the  de- 
partment, the  principal,  Mr.  C.  L.  Bemis,  writes:  — 

"  The  reason  we  are  doing  our  work  in  this  way  is  because  we  have 
no  ground  of  our  own  for  such  work.  I  think  I  should  prefer  the  way 
we  are  doing  it,  anyway,  because  it  makes  the  parents  more  interested 
in  the  work,  and  all  the  child  raises  is  his  own.  It  is  necessary,  how- 
ever, for  him  to  return  seeds  to  the  school  for  those  taken  away  from  the 
school.  He  has  to  carry  the  plant  through  from  the  seed  to  the  seed.11  1 

In  the  South,  also,  attempts  are  being  made  to  interest  the  farmers' 
children  in  flower  or  vegetable  gardens  of  their  own.  Among  the 
Central  states,  as  in  Ohio,  the  work  in  this  line  sometimes  does  not  take 
the  form  of  technical  instruction  in  agriculture,  but  rather  of  teaching 
that  shall  open  the  children's  eyes  to  the  growing  life  about  them. 
Sometimes  this  is  done  by  reading  from  the  works  of  such  authors  as 
Riley,  Carleton,  Burroughs,  who  write  of  the  farm,  woods  and  fields  ; 
sometimes  by  stories  of  what  men  like  Burbank  have  done,  or  of  the 
achievements  of  men  like  McCormick  who  have  invented  labor-saving 
tools.  In  garden  and  nature  study  work  the  object  is  to  make  the 
country  boy  realize  the  natural  forces  with  which  he  must  deal,  the 
wonderful  changes  that  go  on  about  him;  to  lead  him  to  scientific 
understanding  of  his  own  environment,  appreciation  of  his  economic 
position,  and  to  realization  of  the  aesthetic  enjoyment  possible  in  his 
surroundings.2  Such  intellectual  training  will  not  carry  his  interests 
away  from  the  farm,  as  is  so  often  the  case  in  school  life  now,  but  will 
provide  breadth  of  culture,  make  rural  life  fuller,  and  give  a  mental 
alertness  useful  for  all  time,  whether  the  boy  remains  upon  the  farm 
or  enters  industrial  or  professional  life. 

We  of  the  north  Atlantic  coast  pride  ourselves  upon  the  little  red 
schoolhouse,  and  the  church  steeples  that  crown  our  New  England 
hills  ;  upon  the  virtue  that  came  out  of  them  and  went  into  the  making 
of  our  country.  But  this  is  now  largely  a  matter  of  historic  pride  and 
poetic  sentiment  only.  To-day  the  New  England  schoolhouse  is  too 
frequently  a  blot  on  our  civilization  ;  a  raw,  ugly  object,  spoiling  the 


italics  are  the  author's.  Following  the  circuit  of  the  free  traveling  libraries  in 
seven  of  the  Southern  states,  over  a  hundred  school  gardens  have  been  established  in  con- 
nection with  the  rural  schools. 

J  "If  the  farmer  as  he  trudges  down  the  corn  rows  under  the  June  sun  sees  only  clods 
and  weeds  and  corn,  he  leads  an  empty  and  a  barren  life.  But  if  he  knows  of  the  work 
of  the  moisture  in  air  and  soil,  of  the  use  of  air  to  root  and  leaf,  of  the  mysterious  chemistry 
in  the  sunbeam,  of  the  vital  forces  in  the  growing  plant,  and  of  the  bacteria  in  the  soil  liberat- 
ing its  elements  of  fertility  ;  if  he  sees  all  the  relation  of  all  these  natural  forces  to  his  own 
work  ;  if  he  can  follow  his  crop  to  the  market,  to  foreign  lands,  to  the  mill,  to  the  oven  and 
the  table,  —  he  realizes  that  he  is  no  mere  toiler."  —  FELMLEY  DAVID,  Agriculture  and  Horti- 
culture in  the  Rural  Schools. 


140 


SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 


beauty  of  the  landscape,  indecent  in  its  surroundings ;  of  rude,  un- 
lovely exterior,  with  only  the  flag  as  an  inspiration  ;  and  with  a  dismal, 
uncomfortable  interior  for  tasks  that  have  but  little  vital  connection 
with  the  life  which  the  children  lead.  Even  in  the  largest  buildings 
and  with  the  wider  curriculum  of  the  schools  of  the  small  towns  there 
is  no  place  for  the  development  of  the  farmer's  boy  as  there  is  for  the 
child  of  the  merchant,  mechanic,  artisan  or  artist.  There  is  no  outlook 
toward  the  agricultural  college  as  toward  the  college  of  arts  and  science 
or  the  special  professional  or  trade  school.  "  Manual  training  has 
brought  the  shop  and  school  together,  but  the  farm  and  school  are  still 
far  apart." 

It  is  possible  to  make  the  school  and  its  surroundings  more  attractive, 
to  give  its  dry  routine  a  closer  connection  with  the  children's  daily 
lives,  and  through  it  to  add  new  interests  to  the  life  of  field  and  wood. 
It  does  not  need  a  nurseryman  to  give  a  lesson  in  transplanting  vines 
or  bushes  or  young  trees ;  to  set  out  a  growth  of  baby  pine  or  red  cedars 
for  a  windbreak  or  rapidly  growing  sumac  for  a  screen  ;  to  plant  the 
royal  aster  or  glowing  goldenrod  in  a  dismal  corner,  or  train  the 
clematis  to  cover  bare  walls  or  fences.  This  much  can  surely  be  at- 
tempted and  possibly  also  a  small  vegetable  garden  or  trial  plots  on 
a  larger  scale  for  work  with  grains  and  fertilizers.  Experimental  plots 
are  better  on  the  rural  school  ground,  especially  where  land  is  cheap, 
for  they  can  be  made  to  bear  directly  upon  the  economic  interests  of 
the  community.  Moreover,  the  cost  of  land  increases,  and  if  its  pur- 
chase is  deferred  from  year  to  year  in  rural  towns,  whole  districts  b 
come  built  up  and  we  soon  have  the  problem  of  the  congested  cit 
district. 

Extracts  from  Louise  Greene's  Among  School  Gardens,  publication  of  the  Russell 
Foundation.    Courtesy  Charities  Publication  Committee. 

Comment  on  the  Social  Significance  of  School  Gardens 

The  preceding  extracts  from  Miss  Greene's  book,  Among  School 
Gardens,  state  admirably  the  more  important  social  meanings  and 
educational  values  in  school  gardening.  No  line  of  recent  educa- 
tional extension  is  fraught  with  larger  possibilities  of  social  betterment 
than  this  outdoor  work  with  growing  plants.  Miss  Greene's  entire 
book  should  be  carefully  read  by  all  serious  students  of  modern  edu- 
cational advance. 

On  the  educational  side,  in  its  narrower  sense,  the  school  garden 
furnishes  the  children  with  concrete  and  live  material  for  almost 
the  regular  school  studies.     Not  merely  is  nature  study  vitalized  b> 


THE   SCHOOL  GARDEN  141 

such  a  contact  with  growing  things,  but  its  scope  is  also  greatly  broad- 
ened, hosts  of  new  and  interesting  problems  are  suggested  to  teachers 
and  pupils  alike.  These  gardening  activities  also  contribute  much 
concrete  interest  to  the  child's  work  in  number,  in  language  and  even 
in  geography.  The  recreational  effects  are  equally  important.  The 
open-air  work  and  open-air  inte  est  produces  in  children  a  healthy- 
mindedness  of  incalculable  value  for  progress  in  the  regular  school 
studies. 

When  we  pass  from  the  narrower  educational  values  to  the  social 
consequences,  we  find  that  these  are  far-reaching  and  significant.  As 
Miss  Greene  points  out,  the  school  garden  has  had  an  appreciable  in- 
fluence in  diminishing  juvenile  delinquency.  This  is  the  result  not 
merely  of  giving  idle  children  something  worth  while  to  do,  but  also  of 
the  open-air  work  itself.  It  is  well  known  that  vigorous  work  in  the 
open  air  and  open-air  interests  constitute  a  decided  moral  tonic  for 
delinquents,  and,  if  to  them,  certainly  for  the  normal  pupils  as  well. 
Open-air  work  is  a  valuable  corrective  in  reform  schools.  Its  results 
are  so  astonishingly  beneficial  that  one  might  almost  conclude  that 
indoor  work  and  bad  air  is  a  prime  factor  in  moral  deterioration. 

The  social  and  moral  value  of  school  gardening  comes,  then,  in  part 
from  the  free  open-air  exercise,  in  part  also  from  the  implanting  in  the 
child's  mind  of  healthful  objective  interests  and,  furthermore  also, 
from  the  opportunity  afforded  for  the  development  of  true  social 
activities  and  social  interests  such  as  are  too  often  entirely  lacking 
in  the  schoolroom.  Here  the  children  may  work  together;  each  may 
contribute  something  of  interest  and  value  to  the  rest  through  the 
faithful  cultivation  of  his  own  little  plot.  It  may  be  fruit  or  seeds 
to  exchange  with  others,  or  beautiful  effects  through  flowers  in  which 
all  may  take  delight.  Every  school  garden  affords  many  valuable 
opportunities  for  mutual  helpfulness. 

Nor  is  the  social  value  of  school  gardens  confined  to  the  little  school 
community.  It  has  been  found  to  extend  beyond  to  the  homes  and  to 
the  neighborhood  generally.  Unsightly  and  unhealthy  back  yards 
are  cleaned  up,  and  gardens  for  beauty  and  for  profit  are  started  in 
them.  The  interest  in  gardening  leads  to  a  utilizing  of  vacant  lots 
on  the  part  of  the  older  as  well  as  the  younger  members  of  the  family, 
and  the  economic  returns  to  hard-working  people  are  often  consider- 


142  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

able.  Through  the  school  garden  the  country  boy  may  for  the  first 
time  have  awakened  in  him  an  interest  in  the  scientific  aspects  of  soil 
cultivation,  and  the  city  boy  may  have  opened  to  him  an  unsuspectec 
world  of  interests  and  possibilities  for  a  life  career.  But  whether 
either  finds  his  life  work  in  some  form  of  soil  cultivation,  at  least 
both  alike  acquire  a  new  outlook  on  life  and,  along  with  it,  one  of  the 
most  healthful  and  delightful  and  soul-restoring  forms  of  recreation 
known  to  man. 

SELECTED   BIBLIOGRAPHY  ON  SCHOOL   GARDENS 

BAILEY,  L.  N.    Cyclopedia  of  Agriculture,  Vol.  IV. 

BENNETT,  HELEN  C.  " School  gardens  in  Philadelphia;  purpose  anc 
benefits,"  Charities,  14 :  619-624.  Method  of  control;  practica 
work  of;  interest  of  children  in;  moral  and  aesthetic  value  of. 

BUELL,  LUCY  B.     "Gardening  for  city  children,"  Charities,  14:615 
Aims,  method  and  success  of  the  Cleveland  Home    Gardening 
Association ;   wide  social  influence  in  that  city. 

CLAPP,  H.  N.  "School  gardens,"  Pop.  Sc.  M.,  52:445.  A  brief 
summary  of  the  movement  in  Europe,  and  in  Roxbury,  Massa- 
chusetts; its  educational  significance. 

"Educational  value  of  school  gardens,"  Nature,  84:220.  Valuable 
for  nature  study;  develops  initiative  and  practical  sense. 

GREENE,  LOUISE.  Among  School  Gardens.  New  York,  1910.  The 
best  survey  and  interpretation  of  the  movement  and  direction  for 
practical  work.  Extensive  bibliography. 

HAMLIN,  L.  A.  "Where  oats,  beans,  peas  and  barley  grow.  How 
school  gardens  put  a  new  civic  spirit  into  South  Chicago,"  Survey 
24 :  18-24.  1910.  Developed  civic  pride,  better  morals. 

HEMENWAY,  H.  D.  How  to  make  School  Gardens.  A  manual  o 
practical  procedure  for  teachers  and  pupils. 

HOLMES,  N.  W.  "Educational  progress  for  1908,"  S.  Rev.,  17:  299 
Points  out  the  social  value;  how  the  school  garden  relieves  the 
strain  in  cities. 

JOHNSON,   STANLEY.     "The   Hartford   method  for  school   gardens 

Vacation  times  where  work  and  play  are  happily  combined/ 

Craftsman,   12:657.    Two  days  per  week  devoted  to  outdoor 
work;    children  kept  off  the  streets. 


THE   SCHOOL  GARDEN 


143 


KERN,  J.  O.  Among  Country  Schools,  Chapter  IV.  Discusses  the 
value  of  school  gardens  in  the  country;  purpose;  practical 
directions. 

LUKENS,  H.  T.  "A  School  garden  in  Thuringia,"  Ed.  Rev.,  17:  237. 
A  typical  German  school  garden.  Shows  what  enthusiasm  with 
only  a  little  money  will  do. 

MILLER,  L.  K.  "  School  gardens,"  EL  Sch.  T.,  8:576.  Social  and 
individual  results  in  Cleveland. 

"Nature  study  in  Whitechapel,"  Survey,  22:438-439.  An  editorial 
on  the  work  of  a  London  school  garden. 

PARSONS,  FANNIE  G.  "The  second  children's  farm  school  in  New 
York  City,"  Charities,  n  :  220-223.  Early  interest  in  movement 
in  New  York. 

PARSONS,  HENRY  G.  Gardens  for  Pleasure,  Health  and  Education. 
New  York,  1910.  Part  I  is  devoted  to  social  and  moral  values  of 
children's  gardens.  Part  II  deals  with  the  problems  of  practical 
procedure. 

SIPE,  SUSAN  B.  "School  gardening  at  the  National  Capital,"  EL 
Sch.  T.,  6:417.  Regulations  and  advantages  of  the  Washing- 
ton system. 

SMITH,  K.  L.  "Children's  flower  gardens  and  their  uses,"  Cur.  Lit., 
32  :  716.  A  short  general  discussion. 

SOUTHERLAND,  S.  "The  school  garden  as  an  educational  factor," 
New  England,  N.  S.,  26 : 675.  Among  other  values  the  moral 
and  social  stands  out;  respect  for  rights  and  property  of  others 
engendered. 

WASHINGTON,  B.  T.  "Pleasure  and  profit  of  work  in  the  soil," 
Working  with  the  Hands,  Chapter  XII. 


CHAPTER  IX 

INDUSTRIAL  AND    VOCATIONAL   EDUCATION,   ITS   SOCIAL   SIGNIFICAN 

The  Fundamental  Principles  of  Continuation  Schools 


THE  wealth  of  a  country  depends  not  only  on  the  natural  riches  of 
its  soil,  but  also  on  the  men  who  turn  these  riches  to  account.  '(It  has 
always  been  the  aim  of  industrial  states,  or  of  states  that  desired  to  j 
become  industrial,  to  produce  human  material  more  and  more  fitted  I 
for  their  task.     It  was  principally  this  object  that  induced  absolute 
monarchs  in  Europe  to  establish  primary  schools.     These  school: 
were  to  contribute  toward  making  industries,  or,  as  they  were  then 
called,  manufactures,  a  more  productive  source  of  the  state  revenue 

But  the  farther  we  penetrate  into  the  question  of  educating 
masses  to  industrial  capacity,  the  more  we  recognize  that  the  probler 
before  us  is  not  special  but  general,  that  it  is,  in  fact,  nothing  less  than 
the  problem  of  educating  the  whole  man.  Educational  works  in  th 
United  States  are  full  of  this  discovery.  In  a  description  of  the  Lynn 
works,  Alexander  Magnus  says :  — 

" There  are  three  main  problems  that  enter  into  production:  tr 
machine  problem,  the  material  problem,   the  men  problem, 
latter  is  the  most  difficult  problem,  but  also  the  most  important  one 
in  competitive  activity." 

In  an  article  in  the  American  Federation  of  Labor  on  industrial  educ 
tion  I  find  the  sentence :  — 

"There  is  a  growing  feeling  that  is  gaining  rapidly  in  strength,  that 
in  industrial  education  the  human  element  must  be  recognized,  and 
cannot  be  so  disregarded  as  to  make  the  future  workers  mere  auto- 
matic machines." 

I  This  is  perfectly  true.  The  one-sided  education  of  workmen 
o  dexterity  is  only  an  apparent  solution  of  the  problem.  Of  course, 
industry  requires  an  army  of  men  trained  to  perform  them.  But 
dexterity  only  attains  its  full  value  when  it  is  based  on  insight.  And 
one  thing  more  is  necessary.  We  require  not  only  dexterity  and  in- 
sight, but  also  the  education  of  the  moral  character.  Perhaps  this 
Development  of  character  is  the  most  important  part  even  in  industrial 
lucation,  for  firmness  and  principle  will  lead  a  man  to  acquire  dexterity 
md  insight,  but  dexterity  and  insight  are  not  always  placed  in  the 
ervice  of  character. 

144 


INDUSTRIAL  AND  VOCATIONAL  EDUCATION         145 


I  do  not  assert  that  it  alwa)^  makes  itself  immediately  felt,  when 
any  branch  of  industry  neglects  to  train  its  workmen  to  insight  and 
character.  Many  industries  may  profit  for  a  longer  or  shorter  period 
by  their  one-sided  purely  selfish  training.  But  if  all  the  industries 
of  a  state  were  to  confine  themselves  to  the  development  of  dexterity, 
or  even  of  dexterity  and  intelligence,  the  disadvantages  of  this  method 
would  soon  make  themselves  apparent.  For  neither  men,  nor  the 
states  which  they  form,  nor  the  industries  which  they  carry  on,  can 
live  an  isolated  life.  They  are  all  bound  together  by  more  or  less 
common  interests,  linked  together  by  a  thousand  chains.  The  in- 
dividual is  not  only  a  workman  in  one  branch  or  another,  he  is  also 
a  citizen  of  the  state.  And  as  a  citizen,  his  welfare  and  interests  are 
inseparably  connected  with  the  welfare  and  interests  of  all  other 
citizens.  Every  form  of  education,  whatever  its  special  aims  may  be, 
must  further  the  peaceful  disentanglement  of  these  interwoven  inter- 
ests —  at  least,  that  is  to  say,  every  form  the  realization  of  which 
requires  schools  supported  by  public  money. 

It  might  be  urged  —  and  I  know  that  Americans  favor  this  view  — 
that  it  is  not  incumbent  on  the  general  community  to  provide  more 
than  a  general  education.     To  do  this  is  both  its  right  and  its  duty. 
But  it  has  no  duty  and  no  right  to  use  public  money  for  purposes 
of  specialized  forms  of  education.     This  assertion  cannot  be  justified. 
I  have  the  conviction  even  that  education  for  a  calling  offers  us  the 
very  best  foundation  for  the  general  education  of  a  man.     We  are  farjj 
too  much  inclined  to  assume  both  in  the  old  world  and  in  the  newJ 
that  it  is  possible  to  educate  a  man  without  reference  to  some  speciaj   I 
calling.     This  assumption  is  erroneous.     The  only  part  of  it  that  is| 
true  is  that  one  calling  requires  more  preparatory  education  than 
another,  and  that  in  our  higher  schools  a  common  preparatory  educa- 
tion can  be  given  simultaneously  for  several  learned  and  technical 
professions,  exactly  as  the  primary  schools  prepare  their  pupils  for 
every  kind  of  calling.     We  are  also  still  far  too  much  inclined  to  as- 
sume that  early  education  for  a  calling  must  necessarily  be  a  narrowx 
and  one-sided  education.     Yet  it  lies  in  our  power  to  make  an  educa-  \ 
tion  for  a  calling  as  many  sided  as  any  education  can  be.     Well-nigh  \ 
every  calling,  if  treated  with  sufficient  thoroughness,  naturally  in- 
volves an  enlargement  of  the  field  of  conception  and  activity.     Science 
enters  to-day  into  the  simplest  work  and  incites  all  possessed  of  the 
necessary  gifts  to  develop  their  knowledge,  their  dexterity  and  their 
initiative.     Indeed,  experience  has  shown  that  the  path  of  early  edu- 
cation for  a  calling  may  lead  to  very  much  better  results  than  the  path 
of  early  general  education  with  no  definite  calling  as  its  goal.     We 
might  say,  the  useful  man  must  be  the  predecessor  of  the  ideal  man. 
Every  one  must  be  able  to  do  some  good  and  thorough  work,  though 


146  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF   EDUCATION 

it  be  of  the  simplest  kind,  of  one  sort  or  another.  Not  till  then  will 
he  be  able  not  only  to  satisfy  his  fellow  men  and  be  of  use  to  his 
country,  but  also  to  make  his  own  life  of  value  to  himself.  And 
the  same  measure  as  our  lives  gain  value  for  ourselves,  do  we  attain 
power  to  reach  a  higher  stage  of  culture. 

If,  then,  the  early  education  for  a  calling  need  by  no  means  be  one- 
sided or  devoid  of  general  value,  if  rather  it  is  for  most  men,  anc 
especially  for  workers  in  industries,  trades  and  traffic,  well-nigh  the 
only  way  to  reach  a  higher  stage  of  culture,  it  cannot  be  regarded  as  ; 
private  matter ;  it  becomes  a  matter  of  the  community,  a  matter  for 
the  state.  The  reason  for  this  does  not  lie  in  the  advantages  procurec 
for  any  single  branch  of  industry,  but  in  the  fact  that  this  is  the  only 
road  to  civic  education.  Every  one  who  lives  in  a  state  and  enjoys  its 
protection  must  contribute  through  his  work,  directly  or  indirectly,  to 
further  the  object  of  the  state  as  a  community  for  purposes  of  justice 
and  civilization.  Not  till  then  is  he  a  useful  member  of  the  state. 
And  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  it  is  the  duty  of  all  schools  supported 
by  public  means  to  educate  useful  members  of  the  state. 

Now,  if  every  individual  is  to  contribute  by  means  of  his  work  to  the 
general  welfare  of  the  community,  our  first  business  must  be  to  provide 
him  with  the  best  opportunities  of  developing  his  skill  and  capacity 
for  work.  But  the  development  of  skill  in  his  calling  must  not  be 
placed  only  in  the  service  of  industry,  or  limited  by  industry.  Its 
first  object  is  the  development  of  a  man's  own  joy  in  work,  and  thereby 
of  his  joy  in  life.  For  true  joy  in  work  can  only  grow  out  of  real 
capacity  for  it.  Thus  the  skill  in  work  and  the  consequent  joy  in  work 
that  are  cultivated  in  our  trade  schools  prove  themselves  educational 
factors  of  the  very  highest  importance.  Through  them  we  are  able 
to  appeal  to  the  hearts  of  the  boys  and  girls  of  our  working  classes. 
We  can  educate  no  one  who  is  not  happy  in  his  work ;  and  this  is  the 
point  where  we  can  intimately  combine  general  and  technical  educa- 
tion. And  there  is  no  other  way  of  doing  this.  It  is  possible  to  make 
use  of  skill  in  work  and  joy  in  work  in  an  absolutely  egoistic  sense, 
and  it  is  in  this  egoistic  sense,  unfortunately,  that  most  technical 
schools  approach  their  task.  They  only  concern  themselves  with 
the  individual,  whom  they  endeavor  to  make  as  skillful  as  possible, 
while  they  pay  no  attention  to  the  class  as  a  whole.  This  is  also  the 
weak  side  of  the  factory  schools,  which  might  otherwise  be  such 
admirable  educational  institutions  for  training  intelligent  and  skillful 
workmen  and  artisans.  It  cannot  be  the  interest  of  the  manufacturer 
to  give  all  his  apprentices  an  equally  good  special  and  general  educa- 
tion. He  only  concerns  himself  with  the  best  among  them,  and 
not  those  with  the  best  character,  but  with  the  best  intelligence  and 
manual  skill.  Public  schools  have  a  very  different  object.  They  can 


INDUSTRIAL  AND   VOCATIONAL  EDUCATION         147 

and  they  must  accustom  the  pupil  betimes  to  use  his  joy  in  work  and 
his  skill  in  work  in  the  service  of  his  fellow  pupils  and  of  his  fellow  men, 
as  well  as  in  his  own.  It  is  in  their  power  to  repress  the  general  tend- 
ency of  human  nature  to  employ  our  gifts  only  for  our  own  advan- 
tage. And  it  is  their  duty  to  repress  this  tendency,  for  if  every  one 
were  to  use  his  gifts  only  for  his  own  advantage,  there  would  be  an  end 
to  all  progress  both  for  the  industrial  development  of  the  nation  -and 
tor  the  state  as  a  whole. 

Pupils  who  have  learned  in  schools  of  this  kind  to  place  their  joy 
in  work  and  their  skill  in  work  at  the  service  of  their  comrades  will 
then  be  able  to  learn  the  lesson  that  every  school  ought  to  teach,  of 
uniting  readiness  of  service,  consideration  for  others,  and  loyalty, 
with  insight  into  the  aims  of  the  state  community.  Naturally  the 
limits  of  this  insight  will  depend  on  the  intelligence  and  age  of  the 
Dupils.  But  even  when  the  teacher  is  compelled  to  be  content  with 
little,  the  public  schools  will  always  have  means  to  accustom  its  pupils 
to  the  habitual  exercise  of  civic  virtues. 

Our  present  schools  have  not  yet  fully  grasped  the  meaning  of  this 
threefold  task :  first,  education  to  skill  in  work  and  joy  in  work ; 
secondly,  education  to  readiness  of  service,  consideration  for  others, 
and  loyalty  to  schoolfellows  and  to  the  school ;  and,  thirdly,  educa- 
tion to  insight  into  the  aims  of  the  state  community.  Well-organized 
schools  fulfill  the  first  task,  the  development  of  personal  capacity.  It 
still  remains  to  enlarge  them  to  schools  for  social  service,  and  our  most 
important  task  is  to  provide  such  schools  for  the  mass  of  the  popula- 
tion, based  on  training  for  a  trade. 

But  the  schools  for  the  vast  majority  of  our  fellow  citizens,  the  real 
schools  of  the  people,  do  not  even  suffice  to  fulfill  the  first  task,  for  they 
leave  off  precisely  at  the  point  at  which  education  by  means  of  and  for 
a  special  calling  begins.  This  is  the  same  in  the  United  States  as  in 
Germany.  Not  only  the  struggle  for  life,  but  also  the  struggle  for  edu- 
cation, commences  for  millions  of  our  countrymen  at  the  age  of  four- 
teen. The  doors  of  the  primary  school  have  closed  for  them ;  the 
doors  of  a  higher  school  open  only  to  the  favored  few.  The  competi- 
tion for  daily  bread  drives  the  half-grown  boys  and  girls  into  the 
market.  They  take  what  they  find.  True,  the  question  of  the 
children's  future  has  peered  out  of  the  background  in  the  mind  of  their 
parents  and  relatives,  but  there  has  been  no  time  to  answer  it.  Their 
eyes  are  fixed  on  the  necessities  of  the  moment.  Posts  are  valued  at 
the  salary  they  offer,  however  unfavorable  the  conditions  may  be  for 
intellectual  or  moral  development.  Some  few  have  the  force  of 
character  to  struggle  through  untoward  circumstances.  Their  intelli- 
gence, their  will  power,  perhaps  also  their  home  training,  gives  them 
strength  to  overcome  the  forces  that  drag  men  down.  Some  few 


148  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

have  the  good  fortune  to  get  into  a  factory  or  shop  that  has  a  natural 
interest  in  well-trained  workmen.  Some  few  find  employers  who 
do  not  regard  the  young  hand  as  a  cheap  workman,  but  as  a  human 
being  who  must  be  educated.  But  the  innumerable  mass  of  weaker 
and  less  fortunate  youths,  of  whom  thousands  and  thousands  are  also 
valuable  human  material,  and  the  innumerable  mass  of  real  capacity 
that  find  no  warm-hearted  employer  and  no  employment  demanding 
intellect,  drift  like  shipwrecked  men  on  the  stormy  ocean.  Some 
reach  the  haven,  after  a  loss  of  many  years ;  the  majority  lead  a  life 
never  brightened  by  the  sun  of  joy  in  work.  No  one  has  ever  taught 
them  to  seek  the  true  blessing  of  work.  No  one  has  ever  taken  the 
trouble  to  point  them  to  anything  farther  ahead  than  the  daily  task 
by  which  they  must  earn  their  bread  their  whole  lives  long.  People 
tell  us  industry  requires  thousands  of  hands  fit  to  perform  the  same 
manipulation  with  the  same  unerring  skill  hour  by  hour,  month  by 
month,  year  by  year.  I  fully  believe  that  industry  does  require  them 
Division  of  labor  is  the  vital  element  of  industry.  But  industry  is 
not  the  aim  of  human  society.  The  aim  of  society  is  the  increase  o 
justice  and  culture.  And  if  industry  permanently  continues  recklessly 
to  disregard  this  aim,  it  becomes  a  danger,  not  only  for  the  state,  bu 
also,  in  the  end,  for  itself  as  well.  A  democratic  or  even  a  constitu- 
tional state  that  is  ruled  exclusively  by  the  lust  of  gain,  by  money  anc 
the  machine  slaves  that  money  buys,  is  doomed  to  inevitable  ruin,  as 
soon  as  the  natural  riches  of  the  soil  become  exhausted  and  the  popu- 
lation becomes  too  dense.  Even  the  industrial  state  cannot  dispense 
with  strong  moral  forces.  These  forces  grow,  but  not  in  a  people  o 
machine  slaves  and  money  princes.  Moral  forces,  like  skill  in  work 
grow  on  no  other  soil  than  that  of  joy  in  work. 

Now  it  cannot  be  one  of  the  first  objects  of  industry  to  further  the 
development  of  a  country's  moral  forces.  Its  first  object  is  the  profit- 
able use  of  economic  forces.  The  struggle  for  existence  compels  ii 
to  strain  these  forces  to  the  uttermost,  to  press  the  greatest  manua 
and  intellectual  capacity  into  its  service,  and  therefore  to  train  its 
workmen  to  the  highest  degree  of  dexterity.  The  capital  invested  in 
it  clamors  with  reckless  insistence  for  its  interest.  No  one  has  better 
represented  the  psychology  of  gain-seeking  capital  than  the  great 
English  painter  George  Frederick  Watts  in  his  picture  "  Mammon/ 
that  hangs  in  the  Tate  Gallery  in  London.  It  is  true  that  capita 
rings  untold  blessings  to  men.  But  it  rarely  unveils  this  seconc 
face  until  it  has  ceased  to  be  capital  hungering  for  increase  or  unti 
it  has  discovered,  as  it  must  sooner  or  later  discover,  that  the  thirc 
factor,  moral  capacity,  cannot  be  neglected  with  impunity.  Anc 
even  after  this  discovery  it  long  seeks  to  defend  its  position  by  ever 
stronger  accentuation  of  the  need  of  pure  skill,  sometimes  even  unti 


INDUSTRIAL  AND  VOCATIONAL  EDUCATION         149 

it  is  too  late  for  its  own  undertakings  and  for  the  state  that  has  left 
it  free  play. 

There  is  no  escape  from  this  natural  fate  of  industry  but  state 
intervention,  not  too  long  postponed,  to  supplement  the  one-sided 
education  afforded  by  industry,  trade  and  traffic.  It  is,  in  fact,  an 
entirely  new  duty  that  has  arisen  for  the  community  since  the  eco- 
nomic revolutions  of  the  last  century.  It  arose  not  only  in  the  interests 
of  industry,  but  in  the  most  vital  interests  of  the  community  itself. 
It  is  the  imperative  duty  of  the  state  to  create  school  organizations 
which  deal  with  the  trade  training  of  boys  and  girls,  which  enter  into 
the  question  with  the  utmost  thoroughness,  enlarging  and  deepening 
it,  and  thereby  awakening  in  boys  and  girls  many  sided  capacity  for 
work  and  a  living  joy  in  work. 

It  will  not  be  the  object  of  this  new  school  to  replace  the  training 
now  given  in  the  practical  work  of  factory  and  handicraft.  It  is 
impossible  to  replace  the  school  of  life,  hard  and  yet  so  efficient,  quite 
apart  from  the  fact  that  it  would  be  a  financial,  economic  and  social 
impossibility  to  remove  all  youthful  workers  from  workshops,  offices 
and  factories,  in  order  to  train  them  in  special  schools.  It  is  true 
there  are  some  such  schools  that  are  intended  to  take  the  place  of 
apprenticeship.  We  find  them  in  all  civilized  states.  But  they  are 
exceptions.  As  exceptions  they  may  sometimes  do  good  work,  but 
seldom  in  the  sense  for  which  they  were  founded.  For  the  better  such 
handicraft  and  industrial  schools  are  organized,  the  more  surely  do 
they  outstep  their  intended  limits.  Their  pupils  are  no  longer  satis- 
fied with  the  position  of  workmen,  and  even  those  among  them  whose 
intelligence  and  skill  give  them  no  claims  to  high  posts  nevertheless 
seek  to  attain  them. 

The  schools  that  we  are  considering  here  are  continuations  of  the 
primary  schools,  and  they  can  be  organized  in  various  ways.  I  say, 
they  are  a  continuation  of  the  compulsory  primary  school ;  that  is  to 
say,  a  school  compulsory  without  exception  for  all  who  do  not  go 
to  a  higher  school.  The  continuation  schools  accompany  boys  and 
girls  during  their  apprenticeship  to  a  trade,  and  do  not  forget  those 
who  are  forced  to  spend  the  springtime  of  their  lives  as  day  laborers, 
messenger  boys  and  unskilled  workmen,  far  from  the  paradise  of  joy 
in  work.  They  fulfill  two  purposes:  first,  youthful  workers  and  ap- 
prentices are  still  at  the  disposal  of  trade  and  industry ;  second,  no 
citizen  of  the  state  is  left  without  an  education  extending  up  to  his 
eighteenth  year.  The  completeness  of  the  school  organization  de- 
pends on  the  means  which  society  can  provide  for  the  purpose  and 
on  the  sacrifices  which  commerce,  trade  and  industry  are  ready  and 
able  to  make.  The  schools  are  not  merely  technical  or  trade  schools. 
They  only  make  use  of  the  pupil's  trade  as  the  basis  of  their  educa- 


150  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

tional  work.  The  trade  training  which  they  give  is  not  the  object 
of  the  school.  However  thorough  this  training  in  a  continuation 
school,  for  instance  in  Munich,  is,  it  is  still  only  the  starting  point  for 
the  wider  general  training,  for  the  education  in  practical  and  theo- 
retical thinking,  in  consideration  for  others,  in  devotion  to  common 
interests,  in  social  service  for  the  state  community. 

We  Germans  call  them  simply  continuation  schools.  The  conviction 
of  their  necessity  for  the  whole  life  of  the  state  has  taken  possession  of 
the  entire  population  more  and  more  during  the  last  twenty  years.  In 
South  Germany  there  is  no  city  or  town,  however  small,  without  one 
such  school,  at  least  for  all  boys.  In  North  Germany  the  great 
industrial  town  of  Essen  is  the  only  larger  town  in  which  such  a  school 
is  wanting.  These  schools  are  compulsory  in  Bavaria,  Wlirttemberg, 
Sachsen,  Baden,  and  Hessen,  for  both  town  and  country  population, 
up  to  the  age  of  sixteen,  seventeen  or  eighteen.  They  are  not  every- 
where of  equal  educational  value.  There  are  still  many  town  execu- 
tives that  have  not  yet  been  able  to  relinquish  the  old  traditions  out 
of  which  the  schools  arose  as  places  for  repetition  of  elementary  school 
work.  Not  all  those  who  are  called  upon  to  give  judgment  in  this 
matter  are  thus  far  penetrated  by  the  deep  conviction  that  they  have 
to  deal  with  an  independent  school  organism,  requiring  exactly  the 
same  budget,  the  same  solicitude,  and  the  same  possibilities  of  expan- 
sion, as  the  primary  schools.  But  everywhere  the  organizations  are 
progressing,  everywhere  the  representatives  of  industry  and  trade 
are,  with  few  exceptions,  beginning  to  realize  that  this  new  form  of 
school  can  prove  a  blessing  whenever  its  inner  organization  adapts 
itself  to  the  calling  of  the  boy  or  girl.  Everywhere  have  these  schools 
become  an  important  affair  of  the  towns  and  receive  the  willing  sup- 
port of  the  governments.  The  state  subsidies  in  Prussia,  which 
amounted  to  half  a  million  marks  in  1885,  had  risen  in  1908  to  three 
millions.  The  number  of  schools  in  Prussia  rose  from  664,  with 
58,000  pupils,  to  2100  schools  and  360,000  pupils.  In  Wiirttemberg, 
a  law  was  passed  in  1906  requiring  every  town  of  over  five  thousand 
inhabitants  to  organize  continuation  schools  for  all  apprentices  in 
commerce,  industry  and  trade.  Bavaria  is  preparing  a  similar  law 
to  transform  the  compulsory  Sunday  school  for  apprentices,  which 
has  existed  for  the  last  hundred  years,  with  two  hours'  instruction, 
into  a  continuation  school  with  six  hours'  instruction,  for  many 
country  parishes.  The  Bavarian  towns  have  already  established 
continuation  schools  everywhere.  Many  Swiss  cantons,  especially 
Zurich,  have  done  the  same,  and  some  Austrian  crownlands,  espe- 
cially Lower  Austria  with  the  city  of  Vienna,  have  taken  up  the  idea 
of  developing  the  continuation  school  in  the  sense  above  indicated. 
In  Vienna  this  autumn  a  central  building  has  been  opened  for  a  con- 


INDUSTRIAL  AND  VOCATIONAL  EDUCATION         151 

tinuation  school  with  something  like  sixty  workshops,  at  a  cost  of 
eight  million  crowns.  And  in  1908,  a  law  was  passed  in  Scotland  per- 
mitting every  town  to  establish  day  continuation  schools  for  appren- 
tices of  both  sexes. 

We  must  now  consider  from  what  points  of  view  the  organization  of 
these  schools  must  be  undertaken.  The  question  will  be  answered  by 
the  actual  conditions  under  which  the  pupils  live.  If  the  continuation 
school,  which  can  only  take  the  pupils  under  its  discipline  for  a  small 
part  of  the  week,  is  to  exercise  an  educational  influence  on  them,  it 
must  seek  to  take  hold  of  the  pupils  by  their  egoistic  interests  in  life, 
and  to  ennoble  these  interests  in  the  process.  The  egoistic  interests 
of  the  pupils  are  contained  in  their  daily  work.  The  conditions 
under  which  they  carry  on  this  work  are,  in  most  cases,  very  unfavor- 
able, especially  when  the  pupils  are  workers  in  large  industries.  The 
best  thing  that  the  school  can  do  here  is  to  raise  the  pupils'  joy  in 
their  work.  By  so  doing,  it  is  of  use  not  only  to  the  pupils,  but  also  to 
the  industry.  But  it  can  only  raise  the  pupil's  joy  in  work  by  placing 
the  practical  work  of  the  pupil  himself  in  the  center  of  all  school  work 
and  by  teaching  the  pupil  to  execute  it  as  thoroughly  as  possible,  to 
think  out  the  processes  of  the  work,  to  give  reasons  for  them,  and  to 
make  himself  master  of  them.  Thus  it  must  be  the  business  of  the 
school  to  group  the  organization  of  teaching  round  this  work,  which  is 
carried  on  in  special  workshops,  laboratories  and  other  similar  places. 
All  other  teaching,  commercial,  scientific,  artistic  and  moral,  is  brought 
into  intimate  connection  with  it.  This  enables  the  school  by  degrees 
more  and  more  to  enlarge  the  purely  technical  and  mechanical  train- 
ing for  a  given  calling  and  to  let  it  take  the  form  of  ever  widening 
intellectual  and  moral  discipline.  Most  industries  and  trades,  as  well 
as  commerce  and  agriculture,  allow  of  considerable  development  in 
these  directions.  The  degree  of  general  culture  which  the  school  can 
offer  in  these  lines  is  not  determined  by  the  trade,  but  solely  by  the 
time  which  the  school  has  at  its  disposal  and  the  intellectual  powers  of 
the  pupils.  In  spite  of  all  solicitude  for  the  general  education  of  its 
pupils,  the  school  always  remains  on  the  firm  ground  of  the  real  life 
by  which  the  pupil  is  daily  and  hourly  surrounded. 

In  all  large  towns  and  in  all  purely  agricultural  parishes  it  is  always 
possible  to  gather  most  youthful  workers  together  according  to  their 
calling  in  special  continuation  schools,  in  the  center  of  which  this 
calling  stands.  This  kind  of  continuation  school  ought  to  be  made 
compulsory  for  all  boys  and  girls  up  to  the  age  of  seventeen  or  eighteen, 
or  in  any  case  as  long  as  apprenticeship  lasts.  No  reason  exists  why 
these  schools  should  not  be  made  compulsory.  The  state  has  estab- 
lished the  compulsory  primary  school  because  it  has  recognized  the 
necessity  of  a  certain  amount  of  culture  for  all  the  citizens  of  the  state ; 


152  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

the  same  recognition  must  lead  to  the  compulsory  continuation  school. 
There  are  certain  duties  that  every  citizen  must  take  upon  himself 
in  the  interest  of  the  welfare  of  the  state. 

The  time  to  be  allotted  to  the  continuation  school  must  depend  on 
the  means  at  its  disposal.  I  can  imagine  cases  in  which  it  might 
amount  to  two  or  three  hours  daily.  In  Germany  it  varies  from  six 
to  twelve  hours  a  week.  As  long  as  it  is  not  reduced  to  less  than  six 
hours  weekly,  quantity  is  less  important  than  quality.  The  evening 
hours  must  be  excluded.  Evening  schools  can  only  be  established 
for  voluntary  pupils.  Those  who  possess  sufficient  intellectual, 
moral  and  physical  strength  will  attend  these  evening  classes  in  addi- 
tion to  the  morning  school,  and  not  only  for  a  time,  but  consistently 
and  regularly.  The  case  is  quite  different  for  the  majority  of  young 
persons,  who  do  not  possess  this  moral  and  intellectual  power  but 
nevertheless  stand  in  need  of  education.  For  them  it  is  of  the  first 
importance  that  instruction  should  take  place  during  the  day,  within 
their  hours  of  work,  that  the  teacher  may  not  have  to  deal  with  a  will 
still  further  weakened  by  fatigue.  In  Germany,  we  have  entirely 
given  up  holding  compulsory  continuation  classes  in  the  evening, 
when  neither  teacher  nor  pupil,  especially  in  the  winter  months, 
is  equal  to  his  task.  Most  German  states  grant  a  subsidy  only  to 
towns  that  hold  their  continuation  classes  before  seven  o'clock  in  the 
evening.  This  is  one  of  the  cases  in  which  sacrifices  must  be  made 
by  employers,  by  giving  their  apprentices  the  requisite  time  for  school 
during  the  hours  of  work.  The  will  to  make  this  sacrifice  was  often 
extremely  weak  on  the  part  of  masters  and  manufacturers,  but  it 
received  powerful  support  in  the  trade-regulation  law  of  the  German 
empire,  issued  in  the  year  1897.  According  to  paragraph  120  of  these 
regulations  every  employer  is  put  under  the  obligation  to  dismiss  his 
apprentices  from  work  at  the  hours  appointed  by  the  town  for  school 
purposes,  under  penalty  of  fine.  I  must  add  that  the  masters  and 
manufacturers,  especially  of  south  Germany,  are  almost  unanimously 
reconciled  to  this  order  of  things.  Indeed  some  employers  and  guilds 
in  Munich  have  offered  to  send  me  apprentices  for  longer  instruction 
than  the  means  at  my  disposal  permitted  me  to  provide. 

The  joy  in  work  which  diffuses  itself  throughout  these  schools 
must  not  be  placed  only  in  the  service  of  intellectual  and  technical 
training,  but  no  less  in  the  service  of  moral  training,  or,  as  I  call  it, 
of  civic  education.  For  this  reason  the  instruction  must  be  organized 
as  early  as  possible  from  the  standpoint  of  free  community  of  labor. 
Only  in  this  free  community  of  labor  can  the  two  fundamental  civic 
virtues  be  developed,  namely,  consideration  for  others  and  loyalty 
to  others'  work.  The  workshops  of  the  continuation  schools,  as  we 
have  them  in  Munich,  afford  every  facility  for  carrying  out  this  sys- 


INDUSTRIAL  AND  VOCATIONAL  EDUCATION         153 

tern ;  practical  work  leads  in  itself  to  the  association  of  many  hands 
ior  a  common  purpose,  in  other  words,  to  communities  of  labor. 
But  not  only  the  practical  instruction  in  school  workshops  and  school 
gardens  lends  itself  to  this  system;  it  can  be  applied  with  equal 
success  to  instruction  in  physics  and  chemistry,  arithmetic,  geometry, 
or  gymnastics.  Only  at  the  first  stage,  when  it  is  a  question  of  ini- 
tiating the  pupil  into  the  elements  of  a  subject,  is  it  necessary  to  limit 
the  instruction  to  him  alone  and  seek  to  secure  his  individual  prog- 
ress. The  individual  must  have  attained  a  certain  degree  of  pro- 
iciency  before  he  can  join  a  group  for  purposes  of  common  action. 
That  applies  to  the  embryonic  citizen  as  much  as  to  the  adult.  But  in 
all  other  respects,  and  in  all  schools,  the  whole  plan  of  education  must 
aim  at  turning  as  much  school  work  as  possible  into  work  that  can 
done  in  common,  at  so  arranging  the  tasks  and  the  whole  order 
of  the  schools  that  smaller  or  larger  groups,  or  all  the  pupils  together, 
are  interested  in  the  success  of  the  work  and  are  responsible  for  it. 

There  are  two  other  factors  that  serve  this  end  in  the  continuation 
schools.  The  first  is  the  association  of  pupils  in  groups  for  free  com- 
munities of  labor,  for  purposes  of  self-improvement,  of  amusement,  or 
physical  training,  or  of  practical  charity.  This  is  nothing  new  in 

ngland  or  America.  On  the  contrary,  we  in  Germany  are  indebted 
to  your  schools  in  making  it  take  root  with  us.  We  have  nothing  in 
our  higher  or  lower  schools  to  correspond  to  your  leagues,  societies, 
"raternities,  gymnastic  associations,  debating  clubs,  clubs  for  musical 
mrposes,  etc.  Many  of  these  associations  are  admirably  adapted 
:or  the  continuation  schools,  and  can  be  placed  under  the  direct 
supervision  of  pupils  themselves.  It  is  possible  to  introduce  a  regu- 
ar  system  of  self-government  on  other  things  as  well  into  the  continu- 
ation schools,  if  only  one  condition  is  fulfilled.  The  head  of  the 
school  and  his  teachers  must  themselves  be  adept  in  the  government 
of  their  own  school  and  must  know  how  to  enlist  the  various  student 
associations  in  the  service  of  school  interests. 

The  second  factor  is  the  cooperation  of  the  employers  in  the  trade 
:aught  at  the  school,  in  the  common  fulfillment  of  the  school  tasks. 
This  second  factor  has  been  little  realized  in  Germany,  generally  not 
at  all.  In  Munich,  however,  I  have  endeavored,  wherever  it  was 
'easible,  to  gain  the  interest  of  the  employers  for  the  school  by  con- 
ceding them  certain  rights  and  imposing  certain  duties.  I  will  tell 
the  manner  in  which  this  was  done  in  my  second  lecture.  We  must 
confess  that  the  interest  of  employers  in  their  apprentices'  education 
las  not  increased  during  the  last  thirty  years.  We  should  gladly 
adopt  every  means  in  our  power  to  awaken  it  afresh.  The  best  plan 
s  to  induce  the  employers  to  make  not  only  pecuniary,  but  also  per- 
sonal, sacrifices  for  the  school,  even  when  the  school  is  a  public  one.  We 


154  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

do  not  value  a  thing  until  it  has  cost  us  something.  By  these  means 
we  enlarge  the  field  of  education  and  the  community  of  labor  at  the 
same  time.  We  accustom  a  greater  number  of  persons  through  the 
school  to  take  not  only  a  commercial,  but  also  a  purely  human,  interest 
in  the  apprentices  and  to  bear  their  share  in  the  cares  of  education. 
The  plan  has  proved  itself  an  excellent  one  in  most  cases,  though  not 
in  all.  The  general  recognition  that  the  Munich  continuation  schools 
now  enjoy  on  all  sides  is  in  large  part  to  be  attributed  to  the  adoption 
of  this  plan. 

When  the  continuation  school  has  by  these  means  become  a  true 
educational  institution,  not  only  for  technical,  but  also  for  moral,  edu- 
cation, then  it  will  also  have  become  a  suitable  medium  for  civic 
education  and  instruction.  All  teaching  as  to  the  aims  and  tasks  of 
the  state  and  the  common  interests  of  all  members  of  the  state  has  but 
little  value  as  long  as  this  teaching  does  not  fall  on  ground  already 
made  receptive  and  fertile  by  corresponding  habits  of  life.  This 
applies  especially  to  schools  like  the  German  continuation  schools, 
with  their  limited  hours  of  instruction  and  the  quality  of  their  pupils, 
who  have  so  frequently  received  no  good  home  training.  The  most 
thorough  acquaintance  with  all  the  institutions  of  the  state  and  all 
the  duties  and  rights  of  the  citizens  does  not  in  itself,  as  we  know, 
suffice  to  make  a  citizen.  A  man  may  even  be  an  admirable  teacher 
of  civic  science  and  first-class  villain  at  the  same  time.  We  cannot 
develop  character  by  teaching  and  precept  until  the  organization  of 
school  and  instruction  has  been  laid  out  with  the  object  of  accustom- 
ing the  pupil,  as  far  as  possible,  to  fair  and  upright  dealing.  As  to  the 
form  that  this  civic  teaching  should  take,  I  need  say  far  less  in  your 
country  than  in  Germany,  where  civic  teaching  was,  until  quite  re- 
cently, an  unheard-of  thing,  and  where  people  have  learned  by  degr< 
that  civic  teaching  must  become  one  of  the  fundamental  tasks  of  al 
public  schools  as  soon  as  the  pupil  is  ready  to  receive  it.  I  cam 
across  an  excellent  American  book  which  showed  me  with  how  much 
common  sense  and  insight  this  subject  is  already  treated  in  your  schools 
and  which  in  my  writings  and  speeches  I  have  repeatedly  recommended 
my  German  countrymen  to  study.  It  is  the  book  of  Dunn's  entitled 
Community  and  Citizen,  which  appeared  in  the  autumn  of  1909.  The 
book  can  be  admirably  applied  to  continuation  schools,  and  I  hope 
that  some  of  my  teachers  in  Munich  will  before  long  translate  it  into 
German,  with  the  necessary  revision  of  those  parts  that  refer  to  exclu- 
sively American  conditions.  In  my  next  lecture  I  propose  to  describe 
the  details  which  show  more  clearly  how  we  give  civic  instruction  in 
our  Munich  continuation  schools.1  The  more  we  are  able  to  base 
civic  instruction  on  personal  experience,  that  is,  on  the  independent 

1  Vide  School  Review,  April,  1911. 


INDUSTRIAL  AND   VOCATIONAL  EDUCATION         155 

investigations  and  observations  of  the  pupils,  the  more  productive  it 
will  become. 

The  question  remains  whether  the  education  of  the  masses  which 
we  call  by  the  name  of  continuation  school  in  Germany,  and  which  we 
have  realized  in  Munich  and  in  some  few  country  towns,  is  equally 
practicable  in  the  United  States.  One  great  difficulty  is  doubtless 
the  fact  that  in  American  trades  and  industries,  if  I  am  rightly  informed, 
apprenticeship,  as  far  as  it  still  exists,  does  not  begin  before  the  age  of 
sixteen,  and  that,  therefore,  so  many  of  your  boys  and  girls  lose  two  of 
the  years  that  would  be  most  valuable  for  systematic  education  be- 
tween the  primary  school  and  the  commencement  of  apprenticeship. 
It  should  be  the  first  care  of  educators  to  fill  this  great  gap,  either  by 
prolonging  the  term  of  elementary  education  or  by  letting  apprentice- 
ship begin  earlier,  as  it  does  in  Germany.  As  a  rule  both  boys  and 
girls  are  ready  to  enter  a  calling  at  the  close  of  their  fourteenth  year. 
In  Germany,  at  least,  we  have  no  reason  to  be  dissatisfied  with  our 
experience  in  this  direction.  From  an  educational  point  of  view  it  is 
desirable  to  make  fourteen  the  age  for  commencing,  for  there  can  be  no 
doubt  that  working  at  a  trade  is,  or  might  be,  an  essential  factor  in 
the  formation  of  character.  Nothing  strengthens  character  more 
than  honest  trade  work,  and  I  agree  entirely  with  Mr.  Hamilton, 
who  said  in  his  speech  at  Harrisburg  last  February :  — 

"  The  contribution  that  honest  toil  makes  to  the  child  character  is 
just  as  rich,  possibly,  as  that  of  any  other  specific  line  of  school  work. 
Earnest,  self-directed  effort  is  the  base  of  all  habit  and  the  very  corner 
stone  of  character.  Nothing  so  crystallizes  the  crude  charcoal  of 
childhood  into  the  diamonds  of  humanity  as  systematic  self-directed 
effort."  What  we  have  to  beware  of  is  that  this  industrial  work,  this 
"  honest  toil,"  does  not  degenerate  into  drudgery.  And  this  danger 
will  be  avoided  when  a  well-organized  continuation  school  keeps  pace 
with  the  period  of  apprenticeship,  giving  it  meaning  and  thoroughness, 
making  it  many  sided,  taking  hold  of  and  ennobling  all  its  interests. 
Even  the  hardest  work  ceases  to  be  a  torment  when  we  perform  it 
with  all  our  hearts.  The  introduction  of  industrial  work  or  manual 
training  into  the  upper  classes  of  the  primary  school  is  without  doubt  a 
most  useful  undertaking  in  the  interests  of  industrial  education.  We 
have  long  adopted  this  plan  in  Munich,  although  we  have  not  carried 
it  so  far  as  the  ecoles  professionelles  in  Belgium  and  France.  Indeed, 
from  a  social  and  economic  standpoint  it  is  much  easier  than  the  estab- 
lishment of  well-organized  continuation  schools.  For  the  elementary 
classes  do  not  have  to  struggle  against  the  egoism  of  employers.  But 
this  cannot  take  the  place  of  well-developed  continuation  schools. 
For  the  aim  and  end  of  all  this  training  cannot  be  merely  industrial 
education.  Its  aim  and  end  is  the  education  of  the  man,  whom  it  will 


156  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

not  permit  to  be  identified  with  and  lost  in  the  workman.  And  the 
modern  state  can  never  hope  to  become  a  state  of  culture  and  justice 
till  it  has  succeeded,  by  the  right  manner  of  instruction,  in  restoring 
to  work,  robbed  of  its  divinity  by  the  advance  of  industry,  its  educa- 
tional powers. 

George  Kerschensteiner,  Superintendent  of  Schools,  Munich.    Reprinted  by  permission 
from  The  School  Review,  19 : 162. 


Past,  Present  and  Future  of  Industrial  Education 

Dependence  upon  the  Past.  — In  our  educational  practice  there  has 
been  a  universal  dependence  upon  the  interpretation  of  the  past,  and  a 
general  belief  that  an  acquaintance  with  history,  literature,  art  and 
Orientalism  not  only  broadens  the  horizon,  but  also  fits  one  to  meet 
the  changing  conditions  of  modern  life  and  gives  an  understanding 
of  present-day  problems. 

Such  a  policy  has  been  expected  to  mark  indelibly  the  various  call- 
ings of  life.  With  it  a  man  was  to  become  a  truer  citizen,  a  better 
employer,  a  more  conscientious  workman ;  with  it,  the  more  a  man 
would  enjoy  his  work,  whatever  his  trade  or  profession,  the  more  in- 
clined he  would  be  to  fit  in  with  the  existing  industrial  order,  and  the 
more  intelligently  appreciative  of  his  civic  duties  and  responsibilities. 
More  than  twoscore  years  ago  John  Stuart  Mill  in  a  few  words  ex- 
pressed his  conception  of  education  as  being  "  the  culture  which  one 
generation  gives  to  the  next  in  order  that  the  culture  already  existing 
may  continue." 

•  Altogether  it  is  an  interesting  philosophy.  But  is  it  not  incomplete  ? 
Has  not  the  present  generation  obligations  to  the  next  quite  apart 
from  making  it  the  beneficiary  of  past  experience?  Are  we  not  ex- 
pected to  make  conscious  effort  to  prepare  boys  and  girls  for  the  futur 
not  only  by  perpetuating  what  we  believe  is  best  in  our  civilization, 
but  also  by  anticipating  social  and  industrial  conditions  bound  to 
exist  in  the  future? 

No  Present  Path  leads  to  Craftsmanship. — In  its  industrial  phase 
our  present  generation  differs  vastly  from  the  last.     We  see  that  bo> 
and  girls  have  been  led  away  from  the  crafts  and  the  home  and  that 
they  no  longer  desire  to  learn  a  trade  of  the  shop  or  household ;   anc 
that  individual  skill  and  experience  are  largely  disconnected  in  the 
monotonous  toil  of  department  store  and  factory.     One  of  the  noblest 
of  callings,  that  of  tilling  the  soil,  has  so  far  deteriorated  in  common 
estimation  that  a  particularly  awkward  boy  is  derided  by  the  ter 
"  farmer."     We  find  our  workers  in  the  factory,  in  the  counting  roor 
and  in  the  store,  regarding  their  work  in  terms  of  hours  and  wages,  wit' 


INDUSTRIAL  AND  VOCATIONAL  EDUCATION         157 

little  thought  of  craftsmanship,  for  which  hours  and  wages  are  but  the 
material  symbols. 

The  Call  of  Industry. — We  have  now  confronting  us  a  serious  prob- 
lem. We  are  summoned  by  the  constructive  spirit  of  a  busy  world  to 
work  out  a  system  of  education  which  shall  hold  a  definite  and  intimate 
relationship  to  the  industrial  activities  of  life  —  vast  public  and  pri- 
vate enterprises  which  are  enlisting  every  grade  of  human  energy  and 
skill,  from  the  foreign  alien  and  unskilled  laborer,  distinguished  only 
by  his  badge  and  number,  to  the  captain  of  industry. 

It  is  possible  in  a  measure  to  anticipate  some  of  the  needs  of  the 
future.  It  will  need,  as  does  the  present,  a  general  intelligence,  a 
refinement  of  manner  and  thought;  in  common  with  the  present,  it 
will  need  the  exercise  of  hand  skill,  and  it  will  need  a  new  understanding 
of  obligation  in  labor,  to  individuals  and  to  the  state.  A  thoughtful 
leader  of  workingmen  has  said  that  boys  and  girls  need  a  training  which 
will  enable  them  to  earn  readily  and  honestly  good  wages  which  they 
must  spend  wisely.  Now,  earning  readily  implies  a  technical  skill ; 
earning  honestly,  the  industrial  exercise  of  the  Golden  Rule ;  spending 
wisely,  a  training  in  manners,  morals  and  taste.  The  technical  skill 
alone  of  a  craft  is  fairly  easy  to  master.  It  is  not  difficult  for  a  girl 
to  learn  to  cook,  but  the  art  is  not  wholly  mastered  if  not  accompanied 
by  habits  of  cleanliness,  order  and  economy.  To  teach  a  boy  to  saw, 
to  plan  furniture,  to  adjust  machinery,  is  a  simple  task  compared  with 
that  of  training  in  him  a  social  conscience  which  will  make  him  feel 
his  obligations  to  his  employer  and  the  public. 

We  have  had  for  a  quarter  of  a  century  some  form  of  industrial  work 
in  our  public  schools,  but  its  advocates  have  carefully  avoided  any 
vocational  aspect  it  might  have.  It  has  found  its  place  in  the  curricu- 
lum, and  if  at  the  present  time  that  place  be  small,  it  is  due  in  a  large 
measure  to  the  fact  that  its  friends  took  the  path  of  least  resistance  and 
allowed  it  to  become  merely  a  subject  in  the  curriculum  instead  of 
providing  it  with  an  educational  content  which  would  make  it  worthy 
of  a  primary  place  in  our  schools. 

Handwork  as  a  Handmaid.  —  Undoubtedly,  the  older  conception 
of  manual  training  was  that  of  handmaid  to  the  academic  work  of  the 
school.  If  the  pupil  did  not  comprehend  that  two  and  one  half  and 
three  and  three  fourths  made  six  and  one  fourth  by  the  use  of  arith- 
metical processes,  it  was  considered  a  profitable  task  to  prove  to  him 
the  result  in  the  making  of  a  box.  If  he  did  not  display  honesty, 
neatness  and  painstaking  effort  in  writing  a  composition  or  taking  care 
of  his  school  desk,  many  a  teacher  of  manual  training  asserted  that  he 
would  acquire  these  qualities  if  he  made  a  taboret.  If  he  did  not  like 
to  soil  his  hands  by  carrying  coal  for  his  mother,  or  developed  a  dis- 
taste for  chopping  kindlings,  then  sawing  boards  and  driving  nails  in  a 


158  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

schoolroom  would  create  a  love  for  manual  labor  and  a  belief  in  its 
dignity.  Such  manual  training  has  not,  and  never  will  have,  any  effect 
on  industries  or  the  education  of  industrial  workers,  for  it  is  founded 
on  a  false  basis  —  to  accomplish  something  in  a  schoolroom  by  doing 
something  else.  No  one  can  rightly  assert  that  the  present  courses  in 
handwork  in  our  public  schools  have  no  educational,  industrial  or 
social  value.  They  were  originally  introduced  as  a  part  of  a  new 
system  of  education,  but  either  through  a  general  misunderstanding 
of  their  import,  or  because  the  times  were  not  ripe,  they  have  become 
merely,  as  one  has  aptly  phrased  it,  "  a  sort  of  mustard  relish,  an  appe- 
tizer "  —  to  be  conducted  without  reference  to  any  industrial  end. 

Manual  vs.  Industrial  Training.  —  At  present  there  is  much  conten- 
tion over  the  relative  value  of  manual  training  and  industrial  education. 
Regardless  of  terminology,  the  right  kind  of  hand  training  in  the  schools 
must  not  only  develop  in  the  pupil  an  absorbing  interest  in  his  work 
and  a  consciousness  of  its  value,  but  must  give  him  a  sense  of  his  indi- 
vidual relation  to  the  whole  industrial  system.  But  the  teaching  of 
the  use  of  tools  in  a  corner  of  a  school  building  for  one  period  a  week, 
with  no  definite  industrial  purpose  in  mind,  has  about  as  much  rela- 
tion to  industrial  training  as  the  making  of  a  coat  hanger  has  to  con- 
structing a  modern  battleship. 

Industrial  training  need  not  have  technical  skill  as  its  only  goal,  and 
yet  the  training  for  skill  must  be  recognized  as  of  primary  importance 
in  establishing  a  proper  relation  of  handwork  to  industrial  life.  Skill  is 
not  the  only  element  that  contributes  to  the  value  of  the  result ;  it  also 
involves  the  way  in  which  the  result  is  reached.  For  true  efficiency 
there  must  be  no  waste  of  time  or  energy ;  there  must  be  a  straight- 
to-the-goal  method  of  working.  Courses  in  handwork  should  imply  a 
developing  of  the  process  of  observation  and  initiative,  of  a  desire  for 
personal  excellence  of  workmanship;  of  an  attitude  of  mind,  both 
social  and  industrial.  These  qualities  of  head,  hand  and  heart  should 
be  at  the  base  of  every  call  for  service,  whether  it  be  under  the  name  of 
manual  training  or  industrial  education. 

Some  Definite  Needs.  —  We  are  still  wandering  in  the  tall  grass  in 
a  search  for  some  phase  of  education  that  will  make  for  Industrie 
efficiency.  Before  determining  the  procedure  which  will  bring  about 
the  desired  end,  we  may  well  ask  ourselves  the  question,  What  is  de- 
manded in  the  industrial  world?  A  prominent  manufacturer,  speak- 
ing with  the  authority  of  a  national  textile  organization,  recently  stated 
that  while  the  advanced  textile  schools  which  could  cover  more  ad- 
vanced work  than  our  public  schools  were  of  great  advantage,  it  still 
remained  true  that  the  preliminary  operations  of  the  factory  do  not 
require  a  high  order  of  technical  skill ;  that  processes  easily  acquire  " 
when  young  are  almost  beyond  attainment  after  a  certain  age,  and 


INDUSTRIAL  AND   VOCATIONAL  EDUCATION 


159 


that  a  grown  woman  can  never  learn  to  spin  deftly  —  that  the  mental 
•equirements  are  essentially  those  of  discipline.  It  would  thus  ap- 
)ear  that  while  there  is  need  for  special  textile  schools,  there  is  a  larger 
lemand  for  supple  ringers  and  general  intelligence  —  for  the  training 
practicable  in  the  public  schools.  In  the  machine  trades  the  call  is  for 
i  number  of  broadly  trained  men,  a  relatively  larger  proportion  of 
skilled  men  to  unskilled  men  than  is  required  in  any  other  industry.  A 
nachinist  and  a  pattern  maker  need  to  have  considerable  ability  to 
•ead  drawings,  to  adjust  special  tools  and  fixtures,  and  to  interpret 
nathematical  tables  and  formulae.  Managers  in  these  trades  point 
;o  the  growing  demand  for  special  machines  which  the  industry  is  called 
upon  to  build  and  to  the  ever  increasing  use  of  automatic  machinery. 
They  claim,  however,  that  this  development  will  not  eliminate  the  me- 
chanic of  general  and  broad  training.  The  perfection  of  machinery 
calls  for  more  intelligence  to  make  and  repair  the  highly  perfected 
machine.  It  is  true  that  the  mechanic  of  to-day  needs  a  special  train- 
ng ;  but  he  also  needs  as  a  foundation  for  this  the  general  mechan- 
ical principles  taught  in  the  public  schools.  The  shoe  industry  points 
to  a  need  of  workers  with  a  dexterity  of  hand,  arm  and  back  which  will 
allow  the  body  to  adapt  its  movements  to  those  of  the  machine,  the  effi- 
cient workman  being  one  who  keeps  step  with  his  machine  in  its  speed 
and  its  varying  motions  of  mechanical  parts.  This  industry,  in  com- 
mon with  textiles,  demands  a  few  specially  trained  men,  but  the  great 
cry  is  for  workers  with  dexterity  and  character.  In  the  jewelry  and 
art  metal  industry  there  is  a  call  for  more  workers  with  an  art  sense, 
with  power  to  originate  and  execute  products  with  distinctive  features 
n  order  that  we  may  have  a  handicraft,  individual  and  typical.  The 
workers  in  the  forest,  in  the  mine,  the  multitude  of  laborers  in  our 
public  enterprises  of  subways,  streets  and  railroads  speak  for  them- 
elves,  for  so  far  no  one  has  included  these  vast  numbers  of  workers  in 
any  scheme  of  technical  training.  They  cry  out  for  shorter  hours, 
more  pay,  a  living  wage,  a  higher  standard  of  living.  For  the  most 
>art  their  education  will  not  go  beyond  that  drawn  from  the  elementary 
chools.  For  these,  handwork  in  our  public  schools  can  do  much ;  it 
can  develop  a  standard  of  labor  ship  which  must  be  the  foundation  of  any 
rue  improvement  in  the  condition  of  our  so-called  unskilled  laborers. 

Broadly  speaking,  every  one  needs  to  be  trained  to  work,  to  like  it 
and  to  do  it  well.  Labor  as  a  factor  in  education  is  too  important  a 
mnciple  in  individual  development  to  be  longer  ignored.  We  must 
not  have  our  boys  and  girls  spend  so  much  time  with  their  books  that 
:hey  will  miss  an  education.  In  too  many  cases  education  is  a  means 
to  an  end  —  the  avoidance  of  work. 

Intelligence,  Adaptability  and  Appreciation.  —  Careful  analysis  of 
the  movement  for  industrial  education  will  show  that  it  springs  from 


160  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

two  sources:  first,  from  the  skilled  industries,  those  trades  where 
specialized  machinery  with  its  differentiation  of  processes  has  made  so 
many  machine  tenders  while  eliminating  the  all-round  mechanic  fitted 
for  duties  of  supervision;  and  second,  from  all  industries,  both  skilled 
and  unskilled,  where  there  is  a  need  for  intelligence,  adaptability  and  j 
general  appreciation  of  work.  What  is  demanded  is  not  only  technical 
skill,  but  a  proper  attitude  of  mind.  The  president  of  a  large  railroad 
remarked  in  a  recent  statement  that  every  raise  of  wages  had  seemed 
to  be  accompanied  with  a  decreased  efficiency.  The  heads  of  indus- 
tries which  require  but  few  skilled  workers  when  asked  what  industrial 
education  should  do  for  the  mass  of  their  employees,  usually  enter 
into  a  discussion  of  present-day  inefficiency,  incompetency  and  irrespon- 
sibility, implying  that  the  public  schools  are  at  fault.  When  pressed 
for  a  solution  of  the  problem  and  for  a  definite  suggestion,  they  offer 
some  such  one  as  this:  Give  the  pupils  an  understanding  of  the  indus- 
trialism of  the  city,  tell  them  about  the  raw  material,  where  it  comes 
from,  how  it  gets  to  the  city,  the  way  it  is  manufactured,  the  value  of 
the  finished  product,  the  part  that  labor,  the  investment  and  the 
capitalist  play  in  his  process.  In  short,  give  industrialism  a  background 
that  the  workers  may  grow  to  be  interested  in  and  feel  themselves  a 
part  of  the  industries  that  employ  them. 

With  equal  force  much  might  be  said  with  reference  to  the  attitude  ( 
the  employing  public  toward  labor  and  those  who  express  it.      A  nc 
tion  exists,  altogether  too  prevalent,  that  education  leading  to  lat 
is  for  the  son  of  the  "  other  fellow."     When  one  mentions  the  subjec 
of  training  for  efficiency,  the  lawyer,  the  machinist,  the  minister  and 
the  farmer  all  stand  in  a  circle  with  their  index  finger  pointing  to  the 
man  at  their  right. 

Arousing  the  Social  Consciousness.  —  The  time  has  come  for  a  for 
ward  step  in  education,  and  the  significance  of  the  new  movement  look 
ing  to  the  establishment  of  industrial  and  trades  schools   may 
measured  by  the  following  brief  survey  of  the  present  status  of  indu 
trial  education. 

As  has  been  well  stated  by  Professor  Elliot  of  the  University  of  Wis 
consin,  "  the  trend  of  the  development  of  our  public  school  system  is 
determined  by  the  mutual  reaction  of  two  forces:  first,  a  static  public 
sentiment  which  would  leave  the  existing  order  undisturbed;  second, ; 
progressive  consciousness  of  the  new  needs  of  contemporary  life  whic 
constantly  endeavors  to  embody  itself  in  legislation."     This  arousir_ 
of  the  social  consciousness  is  nowhere  better  illustrated  than  in  the 
endeavor  to  adjust  the  American  school  system  to  the  needs  of  ib 
new  industrial  order.     This  endeavor  has  recorded  itself  on  the  legis 
lative  annals  in  a  number  of  plans  for  the  elevation  of  the  standards  < 
industrial  efficiency.     But,  of  course,  laws  of  themselves  do  not  spoil 


INDUSTRIAL  AND  VOCATIONAL  EDUCATION         161 

taneously  develop  high  standards  of  educational  efficiency,  and  such 
efficiency  is  not  likely  to  come  through  the  unstimulated  activity  of 
jpublic  opinion.  The  National  Society  for  the  Promotion  of  Industrial 
[Education  has  done  much  to  arouse  national  interest;  for  localities 
land  varied  interests  need  energizing  through  progressive  state  legis- 
lation which  recognizes  that  education  is  a  concern  of  the  state  and  not 
merely  a  local  responsibility. 

Beginning  with  the  Commission  created  in  Massachusetts  in  1905 
i"  to  consider  the  needs  for  technical  education  in  the  different  grades 
|of  industrial  skill  and  responsibility,"  six  other  states  have  inaugurated 
kpecial  investigations  upon  this  problem.  Already  the  report  of  this 
Commission  has  served  to  stimulate  activity  for  the  reconstruction  of 
pld-school  programs  and  the  projection  of  schools  with  entirely  new 
bases  and  ends. 

Typical  State  Movements.  —  From  the  very  considerable  number  of 
legislative  enactments  having  to  do  with  practical  and  technical  train- 
ling  in  schools  of  elementary  and  secondary  grade,  the  following  may  be 
mentioned  as  typical,  no  attempt  being  made  to  cover  all  legislation 
(dealing  with  the  subject.  The  state  of  Connecticut  has  established 
two  public  trade  schools,  money  for  the  support  of  the  same  being 
provided  for  from  public  funds.  These  schools  are  located  at  New 
Britain  and  Bridgeport.  Recently  the  legislatures  of  Georgia  and 
Utah  passed  resolutions  recommending  appropriations  by  Congress  for 
ndustrial  education.  By  doing  this  they  hope  to  throw  all  the  finan- 
hial  responsibility  on  the  national  government.^  However,  in  1906,  the 
first-mentioned  state  provided  for  district  schools  of  agriculture  and 
fnechanic  arts.  Maryland,  in  1908,  provided  state  aid  to  establish 
commercial  courses  in  approved  high  schools.  Massachusetts,  in  1909, 
reorganized  its  State  Board  of  Education  and  abolished  its  Industrial 
Education  Commission.  But  the  new  Board  was  required  by  law  to 
jiave  in  its  membership  one  representative  of  the  former  Commission. 
\  Deputy  Commissioner  of  Education  has  been  selected  to  have  special 
tharge  of  the  field  of  industrial  education.  Michigan  and  Mississippi 
have  passed  laws  providing  for  the  establishment  of  country  schools 
pf  agriculture,  manual  training  and  domestic  economy.  In  a  revision 
If  the  education  laws  of  New  York  State  in  1910,  provision  was  made 
pr  the  establishment  of  agricultural  and  homemaking  schools,  as  well 
i  is  general  industrial  and  trade  schools  previously  provided  for  and 
upported  partly  by  the  state  and  partly  by  the  locality.  New  Jersey 
las  followed  closely  the  experience  of  Massachusetts,  having  a  special 
pmmission  which  investigated  the  matter  of  industrial  education  and 
ifterwards  having  the  new  movement  incorporated  into  the  older  State 
i  Board.  Oklahoma,  in  1908,  created  a  system  of  agricultural  and  indus- 
rial  education,  while  Wisconsin  provided  in  1907  for  the  establishment 


162  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

of  trade  schools  within  the  state,  including  a  state  mining  trade, 
school  as  well  as  such  other  schools  typifying  the  various  industries 
in  the  state  as  local  communities  saw  fit  to  establish.  A  trade  school 
has  been  established  at  Milwaukee,  and  at  present  a  state  commission 
is  working  out  a  propaganda  for  a  wide  extension  of  such  schools  all 
over  the  state.  This  state  in  common  with  Minnesota  has  a  compre- 
hensive scheme  of  secondary  agricultural  education  with  partial  state 
support. 

Significance  of  National  Appropriations.  —  There  has  been  a  marked 
movement  towards  advancing  the  interests  of  agricultural  colleges. 
The  influence  of  this  legislation,  according  to  Professor  Elliott  in  his 
review  of  recent  educational  legislation  for  a  bulletin  of  the  New  York 
State  Library,  has  been  in  three  principal  directions :  first,  extraordi- 
nary appropriations  for  the  conduct  of  special  investigations  and  in- 
struction, including  extension  work,  forestry,  mining,  horticulture,  soil, 
poultry  raising  and  dry  farming ;  second,  the  establishment  of  new 
schools ;  and,  third,  the  organization  of  instruction  for  the  training  of 
teachers  of  agriculture  and  other  industrial  subjects.  Perhaps  noth- 
ing more  clearly  shows  the  phenomenon  of  the  action  and  reaction  of 
legislation  and  public  opinion  than  a  recent  and  most  significant  move- 
ment indicating  that  the  federal  government,  through  Congress,  is 
likely  to  become  a  large  and  direct  influence  upon  the  general  educa- 
tional system  of  this  country,  for  there  has  been  introduced  in  both  the 
59th  Congress  and  the  6oth  Congress  a  number  of  bills  providing  for 
the  promotion  of  instruction  in  agriculture,  mechanic  arts  and  domestic 
economy  through  federal  aid.  Unless  one  has  given  it  some  thought, 
he  is  in  the  habit  of  regarding  federal  legislation  as  having  but  a  very 
remote  relationship  to  the  expansion  and  progress  of  education  at  large 
in  the  United  States.  It  is  time  that  our  educators  wake  up  to  the 
fact  that  we  are  establishing  precedents  with  reference  to  educational 
administration  which  may  have  an  important  bearing  upon  a  national 
system  of  education.  Unconsciously,  but  no  less  rapidly,  we  are 
moving  toward  a  more  or  less  centralized  governmental  control  of  [ 
educational  institutions,  for  notwithstanding  the  absence  of  direc 
federal  participation  in  this  control,  the  sum  of  $14,500,000  annual" 
paid  from  national  appropriations  for  colleges  of  agriculture,  median  u 
arts,  agricultural  experiment  stations  and  for  education  in  the  Distric 
of  Columbia  seems  to  be  a  justification  for  regarding  congressional 
tion  as  an  already  active  factor  in  the  support  and  development 
particular  and  special  educational  activities  of  no  small  significanc 
to  the  country  as  a  whole.  At  the  present  time  the  United  States  De 
partment  of  Agriculture  is  a  more  important  educational  factor  th 
the  United  States  Bureau  of  Education.  Where  it  will  end,  no  on 
can  predict.  The  hopeful  aspect  of  all  this  national  and  state  agit 


INDUSTRIAL  AND  VOCATIONAL  EDUCATION         163 

jtion  toward  a  movement  for  industrial  and  agricultural  education  is 

jthat  it  points  out  that  education  is  not  merely  to  be  that  which  the 

;  local  public  sentiment  of  the  present  generation  apparently  wants, 

but  that  it  is  to  be  that   which  the  oncoming  generation  will  un- 

(Idoubtedly  need.     Evidently,  educational  inertia  in  either  municipality 

or  state  is  not  to  be  allowed  to  hinder  national  progress  in  agricultural 

i  and  industrial  development. 

A  Popular  Movement.  —  The  increasing  interest  in  the  subject  of 
industrial  education  has  expressed  itself  in  the  editorial  columns  of  the 
public  press ;  in  state  and  local  federations  of  women's  clubs,  and  in 
i  national  and  state  gatherings  of  teachers.  New  school  buildings  all 
i  over  the  country  are  being  planned  to  provide  space  for  shops  and  do- 
mestic science  laboratories.  The  people  of  all  communities,  through 
men's  clubs,  boards  of  trade,  manufacturers'  associations  and  farmers' 
granges,  have  come  together  to  consider  the  question.  It  is  clearly 
evident  to  one  who  makes  a  broad  survey  that  the  movement  for  this 
form  of  education  is  tremendously  significant,  and  that  it  means  much 
more  than  would  be  conveyed  by  the  mere  titles.  It  would  seem  that 
japart  from  the  direct  questions  of  establishing  industrial  and  trades 
schools,  the  term  "  industrial  education  "  in  the  minds  of  the  mass  of 
our  people  simply  means  the  redirecting  of  our  public  schools  through 
recognizing  that  they  must  be  adapted  to  the  needs  of  our  people  and 
Ithat  their  subject  matter  must  be  taught  with  an  economic,  as  well 
as  a  social,  purpose  in  mind. 

Evolution,  not  Revolution.  —  In  analyzing  the  arguments  presented, 
jit  is  safe  to  say  that  the  fundamental  principles  of  industrial  education 
are  in  keeping  with  the  principles  of  all  effective  education,  which  are 
in  brief:  that  all  effective  teaching  results  from,  develops  out  of,  or  is 
connected  with,  the  experience  of  the  child ;  that  this  experience  should 
have  relation  to  vocations  or  to  the  pupil's  part  in  life;  that  every 
|school  should  be  the  natural  expression  of  the  life  of  its  community. 
'Moreover,  industrial  education  used  in  its  broadest  sense  is  in  no  way 
iantagonistic  to  the  general  function  of  all  education  which  is  to  de- 
velop and  train  the  mind. 

Present  Contentions.  —  When  it  is  first  presented,  no  subject  seems 
I  to  lead  to  quite  so  much  contention  as  industrial  education.  At  the 
(present  time  all  are  aroused  over  it,  and  some  are  much  disturbed.  In 
Igatherings  of  educators  we  find  that  apparently  there  are  lacking  clear 
definitions  of  the  respective  fields  of  "  handwork  in  public  schools," 
"industrial  schools,"  "vocational  schools"  and  "  trade  schools;" 
there  is  a  confusion  as  to  its  content  as  to  whether  it  includes  agricul- 
tural, industrial  and  commercial  training.  In  local  communities  there 
is  a  fear  of  making  a  beginning,  the  fact  being  lost  sight  of  that  the  best 
I  in  our  education  has  developed  out  of  pedagogical  experience  and 


1 64  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

not  out  of  mere  discussion.  Discussions  in  public  meetings  develop 
questions  as  to  the  relative  attitudes  of  manufacturers,  labor  leaders 
and  business  men.  In  the  council  chambers  of  national  leaders  in 
education,  such  questions  arise  as  to  whether  industrial  education  shall 
be  in  the  hands  of  our  present  state  boards  of  education  or  regents,  or 
in  the  hands  of  special  boards  or  commissions ;  whether  it  is  to  be  in- 
corporated in  special  schools  or  in  present  existing  schools ;  whether 
trade  schools  are  to  be  supported  by  funds  received  from  regular  sources 
or  from  special  sources.  Where  schools  have  been  started,  many 
points  have  to  be  considered,  such  as  the  question  of  making  articles 
of  marketable  value ;  and,  if  so,  whether  they  shall  be  sold ;  whether 
these  schools  shall  cooperate  with  employers  through  some  half-time 
arrangements,  etc.  In  fact,  difficulties  present  themselves  in  a  hun- 
dred ways,  and  much  honest  difference  of  opinion  exists.  These  and 
many  other  problems  are  fully  discussed  in  the  various  chapters  which 
follow. 

An  Earnest  Attempt.  —  It  would  seem  as  though  the  reason  for  this 
honest  variance  of  opinion  was  easily  explained.  Education  is  begin- 
ning to  have  a  real  meaning ;  it  is  beginning  to  teach  subject  matter 
in  terms  of  actual  daily  life.  We  are  making  our  first  serious  attempt 
to  meet,  in  any  complete  sense,  pressing  economic,  industrial  and  social 
problems.  When  we  attempt  to  study  the  significance  of  industry 
upon  the  life  of  our  people,  we  find  that  the  social  and  economic  prob- 
lems involved  are  exceedingly  puzzling.  In  the  past  it  was  a  com- 
paratively easy  task  to  develop  an  educational  scheme  in  accord  with 
the  ideal  of  Mill.  But  to-day  we  soon  find  that  the  moment  we  at- 
tempt to  connect  our  schools  with  our  industries  and  the  vocations  of 
our  people,  we  are  confused  by  the  demands  made  upon  the  schools. 
But  we  must  not  hesitate. 

A  New  Conception.  —  In  America,  public  education  is  a  passion,  and 
rightly  so.  We  shall  go  forward  in  our  attempt  to  adjust  our  schools 
to  the  needs  of  our  children  and  our  industries.  But  just  how  we  shall 
do  it  is  a  problem.  Many  points  must  be  considered.  We  must  know 
something  of  the  significance  of  industry  upon  the  life  of  our  people, 
of  the  new  position  women  are  taking  in  the  economic  world,  of  the 
trades-union  movement,  of  the  educational  work  now  being  organized 
under  private  initiative  in  factories  and  stores,  and  a  score  of  subjects 
hitherto  considered  as  being  outside  of  the  province  of  teachers  and 
school  administrators. 

It  is  a  large  matter  and  one  of  deep  concern.  It  means  much  more 
expense  for  public  education.  It  involves  a  new  chapter  in  our  educa- 
tional theory.  It  means  a  serious  study  of  other  educational  systems. 
It  suggests  radical  changes  in  schoolhouses  and  courses.  It  necessi- 
tates the  training  of  a  different  class  of  teachers.  Meanwhile,  before 


INDUSTRIAL  AND  VOCATIONAL  EDUCATION         165 

that  can  be  commenced,  or  while  it  is  being  done,  there  will  be  much 
j|  breaking  out  of  new  roads,  a  consolidation  of  public  sentiment,  and  new 
jlaws  written  upon  the  statute  books.  It  is  a  movement  full  of  promise, 
i  and  some  day  in  its  fulfillment,  unhampered  by  educational  precedent 
lor  dogma,  it  will  be  possible  for  any  one  to  receive  instruction  in  any 
ijsubject  at  any  time.  Nothing  less  can  be  acceptable  in  an  American 
^democracy. 

Reprinted  from  Chapter  I,  The  Worker  and  the  State,  by  Arthur  D.  Dean.    Courtesy 
of  the  Century  Company. 

Summary  on  Industrial  and  Vocational  Education 

Of  the  various  present-day  extensions  of  educational  activity,  none 
kre  more  important  from  a  social  point  of  view  than  those  which  have 
jto  do  with  industrial  and  vocational  training.  This  implies,  of  course, 
I  that  it  is  important  also  to  the  individual  from  whatever  point  of  view 
jpe  may  be  regarded  —  whether  as  a  producer  in  the  narrow  economic 
sense,  or  intellectually  and  morally.  In  the  preceding  paper  by  Dr. 
itKerschensteiner,  the  broad  social  need  and  many  of  the  underlying 
[principles  of  industrial  training  are  stated  so  forcefully  and  so  clearly 
(that  it  is  not  necessary  to  restate  them  in  this  summary.  Through 
Ipe  annotated  bibliography  and  topics  for  study  which  follow,  the 
i  student  will  find  many  suggestions  as  to  different  aspects  of  the  prob- 
:  |  em  both  in  principle  and  practice  which  are  pressing  upon  the  modern 
World  for  solution. 

I  Among  the  significant  things  which  are  to-day  finding  more  and 
pore  frequent  expression,  is,  first  of  all,  the  conviction  that  in  all 
[phases  of  education  the  pupil  stands  in  need  of  more  adequate  moti- 
vation in  his  work.  The  tasks  imposed  by  the  school  are  too  largely 
thrust  upon  him  from  without.  They  make  too  little  appeal  to  the 
strong,  innate  impulses  present  in  every  healthy-minded  boy  and  girl 
\$o  do  something,  to  be  something.  Hence,  as  President  Eliot  well  says, 
!"  It  is  for  the  benefit  of  the  individual  to  bring  into  play  at  the 
earliest  possible  moment  the  motive  of  the  life  career,  because  that  is  a 
strong  motive  and  a  lasting  one."  1  There  is  a  clear  recognition,  also, 
I'pn  the  part  of  an  increasing  number  of  educators  that  the  training  of  a 
|^oy  or  girl  need  not  be  the  less  cultural  or  broadening  because  it  is 
:  dominated  by  a  vocational  purpose. 

1  The  Conflict  between  Collectivism  and  Individualism  in  a  Democracy,  p.  45. 


1 66  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

To  be  sure,  the  "  motive  of  a  life  career  "  as  such  cannot  be  clearly  I 
present  in  the  minds  of  children  in  their  earlier  school  years,  but  it  I 
must  be  nurtured  and  developed,  and,  as  they  approach  the  beginnings  I 
of  the  adolescent  period,  it  should  take  fairly  definite  shape.     At  the 
close  of  the  grammar  school  period  industrial  and  vocational  train- 
ing should  begin  to  receive  definite  attention.     It  is  at  this  point  that 
the  weakness,  or  deficiency,  of  traditional  types  of  education  is  most 
of  all  manifest.     It  is  here  that  the  mistaken  ideals  of  all  elementary 
education  begin  to  bear  their  fruit.     In  the  neglected  years  between 
fourteen  and  eighteen  occurs  the  appalling  waste  that  those  with 
a  larger  view  of  the  social  responsibilities  of  education  are  seeking 
to-day  to  prevent  by  vocational  and  continuation  schools.     As  one 
has  well  said :  "It  seems  strange  that  all  oversight  of  children  ceases 
when  they  go  to  work,  strange  that  the  state  has  not  considered  it  a 
duty  to  look  after  their  education  at  the  critical  period  of  their  exist- 
ence.    Then,  if  ever,  they  need  moral  guidance  and  ideals  kept  stead-  ] 
ily  before  them.     That  is  the  time  they  feel  their  deficiencies  and  nee 
instruction  and  direction.     Then  they  need  to  be  taught  to  appl; 
what  they  know  to  a  practical  situation.     Then  their  attitude  is  de 
termined,  and  they  will  become  mere  drudges,  shirks  and  outcasts, 
or  will  acquire  that  joy  in  work  which  will  transform  their  task  into 
an  interesting  vocation  and  themselves  into  interested  and  ambitious 
craftsmen."  l 

It  is  no  longer  true,  as  it  was  in  a  measure  in  the  earlier  decades  of  i 
our  national  life,  that  the  common  school  education  is  all  that  society 
needs  bestow  upon  its  children  to  enable  them  to  become  efficient  and 
self-supporting  citizens.  The  various  industries,  and  all  callings  as 
well,  are  to-day  so  highly  specialized  and  involve  such  a  degree  of  tech- 
nical skill  and  preparation  that  the  majority  of  boys  and  girls  with 
merely  the  elementary  training  of  the  public  schools  cannot  enter 
profitable  vocations  as  they  could  fifty  or  even  twenty-five  years  ago. 
Instead,  those  who  leave  school  and  go  to  work  at  the  end  of  the  com- 
pulsory school  period  fall  inevitably  into  the  unskilled  class  of  workers, 
and  there  they  are  almost  bound  to  remain.  Modern  society  has  de- 
veloped a  long  list  of  purely  juvenile  occupations  of  which  those  of  the 
messenger  and  the  elevator  boy  are  typical.  They  offer  attractive 

1  Dyer,  School  Review,  May,  1911. 


INDUSTRIAL  AND  VOCATIONAL  EDUCATION         167 

jpossibilities  to  the  youngster.  The  small  wage,  to  his  limited  vision, 
[is  a  bonanza.  But  the  work  is  in  no  sense  a  preparation  for  anything 
;|  better.  When  the  boy  becomes  a  young  man  and  realizes  the  neces- 
sity of  engaging  in  more  profitable  work,  he  finds  himself  less  capable, 
aif  anything,  of  advancing  into  it.  His  earlier  work  was  not  a  prepara- 
tion for  anything  better.  It  has,  furthermore,  stultified  his  powers 
lat  a  time  when  they  should  have  been  under  development. 

A  proper  appreciation  of  vocational  education  presupposes  as  a 
[background  some  knowledge  of  social  significance  of  vocations.  That 
jthere  is  too  often  a  lack  of  clear  thinking  along  this  line  is  indicated  by 
the  fact  that  when  education  for  vocation  is  advocated,  some  one  nearly 
always  raises  the  cry  that  the  idea  is  low,  commercial  and  utilitarian. 
This  cry  is  especially  likely  to  come  from  exponents  of  that  type  of 
(education  which  has  prevailed  in  the  past.  It  is  not  strange,  after 
jail,  that  this  should  be  the  case,  for  it  has  been  the  mission  of  the 
schoolmaster  for  many  generations  to  uphold  the  desirability  of  those 
types  of  training  and  culture  which  w.ere  not  directly  connected  with 
preadwinning.  It  was  only  thus  that  he  could  convince  the  boy  that 
pe  should  go  to  school  at  all.  The  home,  the  shop  and  the  farm,  where 
jthe  practical  side  of  life  was  uppermost,  were  always  pulling  him  away 
pom  the  school  and  the  master.  They  were  able  to  furnish  all  the 
practical  training  the  youth  needed  for  the  relatively  simple  indus- 
trial life  about  him.  Before  the  era  of  compulsory  elementary  edu- 
cation it  was  easy  for  people  to  look  at  the  training  furnished  so  well 
py  practical  life  as  almost,  if  not  quite,  sufficient  for  one  at  least  who 
|did  not  intend  to  enter  one  of  the  professions.  For  the  ordinary  man 
br  woman  it  was  easy  to  think  that  a  very  small  amount  of  formal 
schooling  was  sufficient,  and  that  in  some 'cases  it  might  even  be  neg- 
lected altogether.  There  were  always  a  large  number  of  men  to 
kvhom  one  could  point  who  had  succeeded  without  any  schooling.  And 
yet  the  school  did  stand  for  values  that  were  real,  even  though  success 
in  life  seemed  often  to  be  achieved  without  its  help.  It  is  not  strange 
(that  the  schoolmaster  should,  under  these  conditions,  come  to  look 
kith  distrust  upon  the  practical  interests  of  life,  and  that  he  should 
Undervalue  the  part  they  played  in  the  development  of  the  youth. 
jit  is  not  strange  that  he  should  set  his  work  sharply  over  against  that 
^)f  home,  farm  and  shop  as  having  to  do  with  culture  rather  than  utility, 


168  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

and  that  he  should  even  come  to  regard  real  education  as  identical  i 
with  the  culture  training  of  the  school.  All  other  training  was  merely 
utilitarian.  He  felt  keenly,  and  he  tried  to  make  it  clear  to  society 
also,  that  the  school  stood  for  something  distinctly  different  from,  and 
even  higher  than,  utility. 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  lack  of  sympathy  between  the  school  and 
vocational  utility,  unfortunate  as  it  was,  was  incidental  to  a  peculiar 
combination  of  circumstances.  We  are  convinced  to-day  that  there 
is  no  real  disparity  between  them,  that  both  are  necessary  in  a  com- 
\/  plete  education  and  in  an  age  such  as  ours,  when  the  utility  side  is  no 
longer  adequately  provided  for  by  outside  forces ;  the  school  must  dis- 
miss its  old  prejudice  and  provide  an  education  that  is  both  cultured 
and  utilitarian. 

A  little  reflection  upon  the  social  meaning  of  vocations  will  furnish 
a  sound  basis  in  principle  for  the  social  need  of  the  practical  in  edu- 
cation. 

(1)  Vocations  are  natural  products  of  social  progress.    They  repre- 
sent necessary   specializations  or  divisions  of  labor,  inevitable 
society  increases  in  complexity. 

(2)  They  are  absolutely  essential  to  the  maintenance  of  civiliz 
society.     The  functions  of  civilization  are  so  complex  and  require 
much  skill  that  they  can  be  carried  on  only  by  persons  especiall; 
trained  and  devoted  to  them. 

(3)  Vocations  have  a  deep  moral  and  intellectual  significance  for 
the  individual  and  hence  for  society  as  well,     (a)  Consider  the  moral 
value  for  the  individual  of  his  having  something  definite  to  do,  some- 
thing engrossing  to  his  attention,  something  which  serves  to  utiliz 
a  large  part  of  his  mental  and  physical  energy.     This  moral  value 
especially  prominent  in  skilled  work.     A  skilled  worker  gains  a  cert 
sense  of  personal  worthfulness  which  is  a  most  important  elemeii 
in  the  building  of  a  substantial  moral  character  as  well  as  in  the  de 
velopment  of   a  socially  efficient  individual,     (b)    The  moral  vali 
of  a  vocation  is  particularly  in  evidence  in  the  fact  that  the  reforma 
tion  of  delinquents  and  criminals  is  accomplished  in  large  part  throug 
training  them  in  some  line  of  productive  skilled  work.     The  crimina 
is  almost  always  one  who  has  not  learned  to  contribute  in  any  vali 
able  way  to  the  satisfaction  of  genuine  human  needs.     The  best  refor 


INDUSTRIAL  AND  VOCATIONAL  EDUCATION         169 

matories  offer  definite  opportunities  for  vocational  training,  (c)  The 
moral  importance  of  the  vocation  may  be  appreciated  by  studying  the 
social  and  moral  degeneration  of  the  so-called  "  higher  classes,"  those 
who  have  never  felt  the  stress  of  aay  economic  necessity.  One  of 
the  greatest  problems  of  vast  wealth  arises  out  of  its  tendency  to 
throw  out  on  society  large  numbers  of  rich  nonproducers,  veritable 
social  parasites.  Such  persons  easily  become  moral  degenerates. 
(d)  The  moral  as  well  as  the  economic  betterment  of  the  negro  in 
this  country  is  to-day  recognized  as  depending  largely  upon  his 
being  trained  in  a  definite  vocation.  Booker  T.  Washington  says : 
"  From  both  a  moral  and  a  religious  point  of  view,  what  measure  of 
education  the  negro  has  received  has  been  repaid,  and  there  has  been 
no  step  backward  in  any  state.  Not  a  single  graduate  of  the  Hamp- 
ton Institute  or  the  Tuskegee  Institute  can  be  found  to-day  in  any  jail 
or  state  penitentiary.  .  .  .  The  records  of  the  South  show  .that 
90  per  cent  of  the  colored  people  in  prison  are  without  knowledge  of 
the  trades,  and  61  per  cent  are  illiterate." 1 

With  reference  to  the  intellectual  side,  it  would  not  be  an  exaggera- 
tion to  say  that  a  large  part  of  the  development  of  human  knowledge 
has  occurred  directly  or  indirectly  in  connection  with  the  exigencies  of 
vocational  activity.  The  fundamental  human  interest  in  economic 
problems  is  suggestively  illustrated  by  the  fact  that  boys  who  fail  to 
be  interested  in  ordinary  school  work  will  often  succeed  admirably 
when  put  into  vocational  schools.  In  some  states,  however,  the  only 
opportunity  a  boy  or  girl  has  to"  learn  a  useful  trade  at  public  expense 
is  through  the  gate  of  physical  or  intellectual  defect  or  of  moral  de- 
linquency. An  element  so  valuable  for  the  training  of  the  abnormal 
or  defective  child  can  hardly  be  left  out  of  account  in  the  training  of 
the  normal  child.  The  possibility  is  suggested,  and  it  is  worth  con- 
sidering, that  a  large  part  of  our  present  school  work  begins  at  the 
wrong  end.  However  important  the  intellectual  training  is,  does  it 
not  at  every  stage  of  the  child's  development  need  the  ballast  of  active 
interests,  interests  which  will  become  more  and  more  vocational  as  the 
period  of  adolescence  is  approached.2 

1  Working  with  the  Hands,  p.  235. 

2  It  is  possible  that  the  increased  motivation  which  will  be  secured  to  school  work  by 
relating  it  more  definitely  to  the  needs  of  everyday  life  will  silence  such  criticisms  of  the 


170  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

In  fine,  a  life  calling  is  not  to  be  described  as  merely  commercial. 
To  be  sure,  it  is  bound  up  with  the  necessity  of  gaining  a  livelihood  for 
one's  self  and  one's  family.  But  even  this  is  of  the  highest  social 
importance.  No  greater  calamity  could  come  to  society  or  to  the 
individual  than  the  elimination  of  vocational  activities  and  vocational 
incentives.  They  are,  as  we  have  pointed  out,  normal  avenues  of 
human  expression  and  necessities  for  a  well-balanced  human  nature. 

If  the  relative  importance  of  liberal  education  and  vocational  train- 
ing were  to  be  determined  merely  on  the  ground  of  historical  priority, 
the  judgment  would  easily  be  in  favor  of  the  latter.  Vocational 
education,  as  Snedden  says,  is  really  "older  than  liberal  education  for 
the  simple  reason  that  men  have  always  had  to  have  occupations  in- 
volving more  or  less  skill,  by  which  they  could  earn  a  livelihood."  1 
In  savage  states  of  culture  this  came  largely  through  imitation  and 
incidental  suggestion  and  through  learning  by  trial  and  error  to  hunt, 
prepare  food,  dress  skins  and  crudely  to  till  the  soil.  With  the  advent 
of  more  complex  arts  the  system  of  apprenticeship,  in  many  ways  the 
most  perfect  system  of  vocational  training,  naturally  developed.  In 
other  words,  in  all  present  discussions  of  the  social  need  of  such  train- 
ing it  is  worth  bearing  in  mind  that  "vocational  education,  more  or 
less  unorganized  and  resting  largely  on  native  instincts  and  capacity, 
has  always  existed,  that  it  tends  to  be  organized  under  school  con- 
ditions only  where  special  demands  or  necessities  exist ;  and  that  from 
the  standpoint  of  social  necessity,  vocational  education  given  by  some 
agency  is  indispensable." 2 

PROBLEMS  FOR  DETAILED  STUDY  AND  DISCUSSION 

i.  What  current  social  conditions  are  leading  to  a  general  demand 
for  industrial  training?  Wood-Simons,  Snedden,  Dean,  Carlton, 
Addams. 

work  of  public  education  as  the  following  :  The  intelligence  produced  is  inefficient  and  not 
worth  the  money  spent  (ex-President  Eliot).  The  product  is  contemptible  (Admiral 
Evans).  Useless  for  business  (Fisk).  It  has  no  profitable  relation  to  applied  science 
(Edison) .  Eminently  successful  in  turning  out  uniformly  stupid  types,  void  of  originality 
(Benson  and  Frederic  Harrison).  The  biggest  failure  of  modern  times  (Hirsch).  Vide 
Johnston,  "The  Social  Significance  of  Various  Movements  for  Industrial  Education,"  Edu- 
cational Review.  February,  1909. 

1  Problem  of  Vocational  Education,  p.  9.  *  Snedden,  op.  cit.,  p.  13, 


INDUSTRIAL  AND  VOCATIONAL  EDUCATION         171 

2.  Investigate  as  fully  as  possible  the  old  apprenticeship  system, 
its  origin,  social  advantages  and  disadvantages,  adaptation  to  the 
social  needs  of  its  period.     Wright. 

3.  Reasons  for  the  present  decay  and  disappearance  of  the  appren- 
ticeship system.     Wright,  Wood-Simons. 

4.  What  is  meant  by  "the  industrial  revolution"?    Relation  to 
educational  problems  ? 

5.  Relation  of  the  elimination  of  pupils  from  school  to  the  ques- 
tion of  industrial  education.     Jones,  Thorndike. 

6.  Study  and  state  carefully  the  social  waste  and  menace  through 
the    so-called    juvenile    occupations.     Snedden,    Dean,    Bloomfield, 
Hanus,  Massachusetts  Commission,  etc. 

7.  The  "unemployables,"  their  origin  and  social  menace.     Bloom- 
field,  Dean. 

8.  At  what  period  should  the  child's  industrial  or  vocational 
training  begin?    Differentiation  of  earlier  and  later  stages.     Dean, 
Snedden,  et  al. 

9.  Need  of  more  attention  to  practical  applications  in  the  case  of 
the  so-called  liberal  studies.     Eliot,  Dean,  Snedden,  etc. 

10.  Relation  of  vocational  to  cultural  education.     Snedden,  Dean, 
Kerschensteiner. 

11.  Place  a  manual  training  in    the  present-day  curriculum:    a 
"  liberal"  or  an  industrial  study.     Snedden,  etc. 

12.  Relation  of  industrial  and  vocational  education  to  the  underly- 
ing principle  of  democracy,  "equal  rights  to  all,  unequal  privileges 
to  none." 

13.  Effect  upon  Germany  of  systematic  industrial  education  since 
1870. 

14.  Types  of  continuation  schools  in  Munich.     Hanus,  Kerschen- 
steiner, Sadler. 

15.  Attitude  of  organized  labor  toward  industrial  education.     Dean, 
Wood-Simons,  Jones. 

1 6.  Describe  systems  of  industrial  and  vocational  training  recently 
inaugurated  in  various  American  cities,  e.g.,  in  Cincinnati,  Chicago, 
etc. 

17.  Compare  our  systems  with  the  better  developed  ones  of  Eng- 
land, Germany  and   other  European  countries.     Hanus,  Kerschen- 
steiner, Jones,  Sadler. 

1 8.  Need  of  cooperation  of  shop  and  school.     Describe  various 
methods   of   securing   it.     Dean,    Dyer,    Kerschensteiner,    Snedden, 
Person,  Orr. 

19.  Is  it  just  for  the  employer  to  criticize  the  public  schools  on  the 
ground  that  the  graduates  are  not  immediately  able  to  meet  skillfully 
the  technical  requirements  of  his  business? 


172  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

20.  There  is  a  widespread  complaint  on  the  part  of  employers  that 
there  is  to-day  a  great  dearth  of  skilled  labor.     Does  any  responsibility 
rest  upon  employers  to  help  their  young  employees  become  skilled 
workmen?    Bloomfield,  Dean,  etc. 

21.  Should   trade   schools  be   under  public   or  private   control? 
Arguments  for  and  against.     Dean,  Snedden,  etc. 

22.  Compare  national  and  state  control  with  local  control.    Snedden. 

23.  Other  problems  in  the  administration  of  industrial  and  voca- 
tional training.     Dutton  and  Snedden,  Snedden,  Dean. 

24.  Distinction  between  industrial  and  vocational  training? 

25.  Estimate    the   various    moral   values   of   industrial    training. 
Gillette,  Dean,  Washington. 

26.  What  light  upon  the  value  of  industrial  education  may  be 
obtained  from  modern  types  of  education  of  delinquents,  dependents, 
negroes,  etc.  ?     Gillette,  Washington. 

27.  Problems  of  industrial  training  peculiar  to  women?    Snedden, 
Dean,  etc. 

28.  What  peculiar  difficulties  arise  in  connection  with  popular 
agricultural  education?     Snedden,  Dean,  etc. 

29.  Work  and  limitation  of  evening  schools;  of  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.; 
and  of  correspondence  schools  in  promoting  industrial  education. 
Jones,  etc. 

30.  Influence  of  the  recently  developed  system  of  "University 
Extension"  upon  the  industrial  uplift  of  the  people.     Study  especially 
the  Wisconsin  system. 

BIBLIOGRAPHY  ON  VOCATIONAL  AND   INDUSTRIAL 
EDUCATION 

ADDAMS,  JANE.  "Protection  of  children  for  industrial  efficiency,"  in 
Newer  Ideals  of  Peace. 

BAILEY,  L.  H.  "Education  by  means  of  agriculture  in  elementary 
and  secondary  schools,"  Cyclopedia  of  Agriculture,  4:382,  451, 
467.  An  important  and  comprehensive  reference. 

"On  the  training  of  persons  to  teach  agriculture  in  the  public 

schools,"  Bulletin  No.  i  of  the  U.  S.  Bureau  of  Education,  1908. 

BALLIET,  THOS.  M.  "Aim  of  industrial  teaching  in  the  public  school 
system,"  Am.  S.  B.  Jour.,  January,  1909.  A  suggestive  article. 

BLOOMFIELD,  MEYER.  The  Vocational  Guidance  of  Youth,  Riverside 
Educational  Monograph.  Boston,^  1911.  Emphasizes  inciden- 
tally the  need  of  vocational  education. 


INDUSTRIAL  AND  VOCATIONAL  EDUCATION         173 

BOONE,  R.  G.     "Manual  training  as  a  socializing  factor,"  Ed.,  22: 

395- 
BRICKER.     "Shall  secondary  agriculture   be   taught   as  a  separate 

science?"  Ed.,  30:352. 

BUCK,  M.  McC.  "Work  for  the  deformed.  What  is  done  to  make 
crippled  children  useful  members  of  society,"  Craftsman,  12  : 193. 

BUSH-BROWN,  H.  K.  "The  farm  industrial  school,"  Craftsman,  15 : 
167.  The  present  system  of  education  fits  boys  for  country 
houses,  shops,  etc. 

"Work,  study,  and  play  for  every  child,"  Craftsman,  15:330. 

Natural  environment  of  child  not  books,  but  work. 

CARLTON,  FRANK  T.  Education  and  Industrial  Evolution.  New  York, 
1908.  A  clear,  comprehensive  treatment  of  the  problem  of  in- 
dustrial education:  continuation  schools,  trade  schools,  negro 
education,  apprenticeship  system  in  the  United  States,  organized 
labor  and  industrial  education,  relation  of,  to  manual  training. 

CARMEN,  G.  N.  "Cooperation  of  school  and  shop  in  promoting  in- 
dustrial efficiency,"  5.  Rev.,  18 : 108.  Illustrated  by  practical 
experience  of  Lewis  Institute. 

CARR,  J.  F.  "A  school  with  a  clear  aim,"  W.  W.,  19: 12363.  Work 
of  the  Interlaken  School,  La  Porte,  Indiana.  Shows  how  the 
definite  and  immediate  application  of  training  to  work  insures 
interest,  earnestness,  self-government,  etc. 

CHAMBERLAIN,  A.  H.  "The  vocational  middle  school,"  Man.  Tr. 
Mag.,  12  : 105.  A  school  to  parallel  the  high  school,  advantages, 
course  of  study,  etc. 

Chicago  Association  of  Commerce.  Industrial  Education  in  Relation 
to  Conditions  in  the  City  of  Chicago.  Published  by  the  Associa- 
tion. Chicago,  1909. 

CLARKE,  I.  E.  "Art  and  industrial  education,"  Monographs  on  Edu- 
cation, No.  14.  Edited  by  N.  M.  Butler. 

DABNEY,  C.  W.  "Agricultural  Education,"  Monographs  on  Educa- 
tion, No.  12. 

DAVENPORT,  EUGENE.  Education  for  Efficiency.  An  excellent  treat- 
ment of  the  modern  phases  of  industrial  education  in  its  relation 
to  high  schools,  etc. 

DAVIS,  B.  M.  "Present  status  of  manual  training  in  its  relation  to 
industrial  education  in  the  rural  schools,"  Man.  Tr.  Mag.,  n: 
456. 


174  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

DEAN,  ARTHUR  D.  The  Worker  and  the  State.  A  comprehensive 
and  popular  account  of  the  whole  current  movement. 

DODD,  ALVIN  G.     "  Grammar  grade  vocational  training,"  Man.  Tr. 

Mag.,  11:97. 
DUTTON  AND  SNEDDEN.     "Administration  of  Vocational  Education," 

The  Administration  of  Public  Education  in  the  United  States, 

Chapter  XXII. 

DYER,  F.  B.     "Industrial  education  in  Cincinnati,"  S.  Rev.,  19:  289. 

EATON,  J.  SHIRLEY.  "Education  for  efficiency  in  the  railroad  serv- 
ice," Bui.  U.  S.  Bur.  Ed.,  1909,  No.  10. 

ELIOT,  C.  N.  The  Conflict  of  Individualism  and  Collectivism  in  a  De- 
mocracy. 

GILLETTE,  J.  M.  Vocational  Education.  1910.  All  school  educa- 
tion should  be  organized  about  a  vocational  motive. 

HAILMANN,  W.  N.  "German  views  of  American  Education  with 
particular  reference  to  industrial  development,"  Bui.  U.  S.  Bur. 
Ed.,  1906,  No.  2. 

HANUS,  PAUL.  The  Beginnings  of  Industrial  Education.  Boston, 
1909. 

HARCOURT,  CHARLES.  "Reform  for  the  truant  boy  in  industrial 
training,"  Craftsman,  15:436.  Describes  actual  efforts  in 
Brooklyn  and  other  places. 

HAWKINS,  MASON  A.     "Vocational  Education,"  Ed.,  31 : 141.     1910. 

HINE,  LEWIS.  "Industrial  training  for  deaf  mutes,"  Craftsman,  13: 
400.  "A  practical  school  where  an  opportunity  is  furnished 
for  them  to  become  self-supporting  citizens." 

HUNTER,  W.  B.  "The  Fitchburg  plan  of  industrial  education,"  S. 
Rev.,  1910,  p.  166.  The  manufacturers  of  Fitchburg  made  it 
possible  for  boys  to  learn  shop  work  in  school ;  go  alternate 
weeks;  receive  pay. 

JAMES,  J.  E.  "Commercial  Education  in  the  United  States,"  No.  13, 
of  Monographs  on  Education,  edited  by  N.  M.  Butler. 

JEWELL,  J.  R.  "Agricultural  Education,"  Bui.  of  U.  S.  Bur.  of  Ed., 
1907,  No.  2. 

JOHNSTON,  C.  H.  "The  social  significance  of  various  movements  for 
industrial  education,"  Ed.  Rev.  February,  1909. 

KERSCHENSTEINER,  GEORG.  (i)  Education  for  Citizenship.  An  argu- 
ment for  a  general  public  system  of  compulsory  vocational  edu- 
cation. His  famous  prize  essay. 


INDUSTRIAL  AND  VOCATIONAL  EDUCATION         175 

(2)  "  Fundamental  principles  of  continuation  schools/'  S.  Rev., 

19 : 162.     Reprinted  in  this  section. 

(3)  "  The  organization  of  continuation  schools  in  Munich,"  S. 

Rev.,  19 :  225. 

—  (4)  "The  technical  trade  schools  in  Germany,"  S.  Rev.,  19 :  295. 

MACDONALD,  M.  I.  "Our  need  for  industrial  education;  what  it 
would  mean  to  have  vocational  schools  added  to  the  public 
school  systems,"  Craftsman,  15 : 466.  Compares  our  condition 
with  Bavaria  and  other  European  countries. 

MARSHALL,  F.  M.  "Industrial  training  for  women,"  Nat.  Soc.  for 
Prom,  of  Ind.  Ed.,  Bulletin  No.  4,  1907. 

Massachusetts  Commission  on  Industrial  and  Technical  Education. 
Reports.  Boston,  1906-1909. 

ORR,  WILLIAM.     "Vocational  training  in  large  cities,"  S.  Rev.,  17 :  417. 

OSGOOD,  C.  L.  "Raising  the  standard  of  efficiency  in  work,"  Crafts- 
man, 12  :  634.  Practical  training  given  by  the  Manhattan  Trade 
School  of  Girls. 

PERKINS,  AGNES  F.  Vocations  for  the  Trained  Woman,  Woman's 
Educational  and  Industrial  Union,  Boston,  1910. 

PERSON,  H.  S.  "The  ideal  organization  of  a  system  of  secondary 
schools  to  provide  vocational  training,"  S.  Rev.,  17:404. 

—  Industrial  Education.     A  system  of  training  for  men  entering 
upon  trade  and  commerce.     Boston,  1907. 

REEDER,  R.    How  Two  Hundred  Children  Live  and  Learn,  Chapter 
III. 

RICHARDS,  C.  R.  "  Trade  schools :  their  place  in  industry,  education 
and  philanthropy,"  N.  C.  C.  C.,  1895,  pp.  195-203. 

—  "The  place  of  industries  in  public  education,"  Man.  Tr.  Mag., 
12 :  47.     "Problem  is  to  place  school  in  intimate  cooperation  with 
the  industrial  situation." 

ROGERS,  H.  J.  "Education  with  reference  to  our  future  industrial 
and  commercial  development,"  Lewis  and  Clark  Educational 
Congress,  p.  102. 

Row,  R.  K.  The  Educational  Meaning  of  Manual  Arts  and  Industries. 
Values  of  different  types  of  manual  training;  to  what  classes  of 
children  most  important ;  best  methods  for  realizing  these  values. 

SADLER,  M.  Continuation  Schools  in  England  and  Elsewhere.  The 
most  comprehensive  account  of  the  status  of  industrial  education 
in  civilized  countries. 


176  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

SNEDDEN,  DAVID.  The  Problem  of  Vocational  Education,  Riverside 
Educational  Monograph,  1910.  Definition  of,  social  need  for, 
and  support  of  vocational  work;  types;  problems  of  relation 
and  administration.  Concise  and  suggestive. 

SNOWDEN,  A.  A.  "The  industrial  improvement  schools  of  Wiirtem- 
berg,"  The  Teachers  College  Record.  November,  1907. 

STICKLEY,  GUSTAV.  "The  public  school  and  the  home,  the  part  each 
should  bear  in  the  education  of  our  children,"  Craftsman,  16 :  284. 
All  industrial  training  should  not  be  crowded  upon  the  school. 

"A  visit  to  Craftsman  Farms,"  Craftsman,  18:638.    A  school 

farm  —  pupils  taught  to  do  something  useful  with  hands  and 
brains. 

•  "Teaching  boys  and  girls  to  work."    What  is  needed  is  not  more  I 


schools,  but  common  sense.    Craftsman,  18 :  428.    Advocates  more  X 
industrial  training  at  home. 

TERMAN,  L.  H.  Relation  of  the  manual  arts  to  health,  Pop.  Sc.  M., 
June,  1911. 

THORNDIKE,  E.  L.  "The  elimination  of  pupils  from  school,"  Bui. 
of  U.  S.  Bur.  Ed.,  No.  4,  1907.  The  facts  of  elimination  bear 
directly  upon  the  need  of  industrial  education. 

VANDERLIP,  F.  A.  "American  industrial  training  as  compared  with 
European  industrial  training,"  Social  Education  Quarterly,  i :  105, 
1907. 

WASHINGTON,  B.  T.  Working  with  the  Hands.  Moral  values  of  hand- 
work ;  outdoor  work  for  women ;  pleasure  and  profit  of  work  in 
soil. 

WOOD-SIMONS.  "Industrial  education  in  Chicago,"  Ped.  S.,  17  :  398. 
An  excellent  statement  of  the  social  need  for,  and  the  attempts 
to  respond  to  it. 

WOOLMAN,  MARY  S.  The  Making  of  a  Trade  School.  1910.  An 
account  of  the  Manhattan  Trade  School  for  Girls. 

WRIGHT,  CARROLL  D.  Industrial  Evolution  of  the  United  States.  New 
York,  1897. 

"The  apprenticeship  system  in  its  relation  to  industrial  educa- 
tion," Bui.  U.  S.  Bur.  Ed.,  No.  6,  1908. 

See  DEAN,  A.  D.,  Worker  and  State,  for  an  extended  classified  bibliog- 
raphy. 


CHAPTER  X 

VOCATIONAL  DIRECTION,   ONE   OF  THE  LARGER   SOCIAL   FUNCTIONS   OF 

EDUCATION 

Vocational  Direction  a  Social  Necessity 

A  BOY  just  graduated  from  high  school  came  to  his  principal  and 
said :  "  I  have  finished  the  work  of  the  school.  What  am  I  to  do  now  ?  " 
The  principal  said  with  a  grandiloquent  flourish:  "  We  have  led  you 
out  upon  the  broad  sea  of  opportunity,  and  you  can  now  steer  your 
ship  in  any  direction  you  choose.  You  are  prepared  to  do  anything." 
The  youth  replied  with  a  touch  of  bitterness,  "  It  seems  to  me  you  have 
ed  me  out  into  a  bank  of  fog."  We  are  tardily  beginning  to  see  that 
the  youth  was  right.  The  paper  by  Mr.  Weaver,  here  reprinted,  de- 
scribes concretely  and  forcefully  what  is  being  done  by  the  schools  in 
metropolitan  centers  to  help  boys  and  girls  make  satisfactory  voca- 
tional adjustments.  It  is  especially  interesting  because  it  shows  first 
what  the  teaching  force  itself  on  its  own  initiative  can  accomplish. 
It  is  worth  studying,  also,  because  it  brings  to  light  some  of  the  difficul- 
ties of  vocational  adjustment  that  inhere  in  the  training  and  habits  of 
work  of  the  young  people  themselves. 

In  Boston,  the  work  originated  outside  of  the  schools,  but  is  being 
developed  in  close  cooperation  with  the  teachers  and  the  school  system 
is  a  whole.  A  surprisingly  large  amount  and  wide  range  of  helpful 
baterial  has  already  been  printed,  dealing  with  the  problems  of 
vocational  adjustment.  Bloomfield's  admirable  monograph,  The  Vo- 
cational Guidance  of  Youth,  should  be  read  by  every  student  of  the 
larger  meaning  of  education.  It  describes  the  social  need,  and  the 
attempts  to  meet  the  need  not  only  in  Boston,  but  also  in  other  large 
bities  in  this  country  and  Europe.  The  idea  is  rapidly  spreading, 
and  to-day  many  American  cities  are  considering  the  establishment 
bf  Vocation  Bureaus.  The  book  by  Parsons,  Choosing  a  Vocation, 
N  177 


178  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

describes  the  practical  work  and  methods  and  results  attained  by  the 
trained  vocational  counselor. 

As  Bloomfield  says :  "  We  are  indeed  living  in  the  midst  of  a 
restless  period,  impatient  with  crudeness,  and  too  preoccupied  to 
pause  over  the  stumblings  and  gropings  of  its  bewildered  youth. 
Into  the  arena  of  tense  effort,  the  schools  of  our  country  send  out 
their  annual  thousands.  We  somehow  trust  that  the  tide  of  oppor- 
tunity may  carry  them  to  some  vocational  destination.  .  .  .  What 
becomes  of  that  young  multitude  sent  out  to  cope  with  the  new 
conditions  of  self-support?  Whose  business  is  it  to  follow  up  the  re- 
sults of  this  transition  from  school  to  work  ?  Whose  business  to  audit 
our  social  accounts,  and  discover  how  far  our  costly  enterprises 
in  education,  the  pain,  the  thought,  the  skill  and  the  sacrifice 
we  put  forth  with  the  growing  generation,  are  well  or  ill  invested 
in  the  field  of  occupation  ?  There  are  vital  questions,  and  perhaps  the 
most  vital  is  how  far  the  work  our  children  turn  to  is  the  result 
choice,  accident  or  necessity."  All  types  of  schools  and  all  classes 
people  are,  as  he  further  says,  concerned  in  this  question.  Too  muc 
of  the  strength  of  youth  is  wasted  when  "  a  helpful  suggestion  at  th 
critical  moment"  might  have  directed  aright  and  made  possible  happy, 
successful  lives  where  now  there  is  maladjustment  and  dreary  waste. 

The  possibility  of  wisely  directing  young  men  and  women  in  the 
choice  of  vocation  is  only  beginning  to  be  realized,  but  already  the  idea 
has  passed  from  the  stage  of  theory  into  that  of  successful  practice. 
The  impulse  for  vocational  guidance  in  some  places  arose  outside  the 
school,  in  others  within ;  but,  whatever  its  origin,  and  however  it  is  bein 
carried  on,  it  is  one  of  the  significant  phases  of  the  modern  broade 
conception  of  the  scope  and  function  of  public  education.     It  is 
essential  element  in  the  movement  to  bring  the  school  closer  to  society 
to  make  it  a  more  effective  social  instrument.     No  matter  what  sort 
of  training  the  school  may  give,  whether  "  liberal  "  or  more  narrowly  | 
practical,  there  is  need  of  counsel  and  guidance  that  the  youth  may ! 
find  his  proper  place  in  the  adult  world.     Nor  is  the  need  to  be  met  j 
at  the  last  moment  when  he  is  about  to  go  forth.     It  is  a  part  of  the  j 
business  of  the  agents  of  education  to  study  him  more  or  less  continu-  j 
ously  throughout  his  course  with  reference  to  his  adaptability  to  a  paH 
ticular  line  of  work.     Whether  the  boy  is  to  be  always  conscious  that 


VOCATIONAL  DIRECTION  179 

}ie  actually  is  daily  laying  the  foundation  for  some  sort  of  a  vocation, 
(the  school  must  not  lose  sight  of  that  fact,  and  the  boy,  as  he  grows 
older,  must  be  made  more  and  more  to  feel  that  the  wise  intelligent 
choice  of  a  vocation  is  the  culmination  of  his  school  training,  a  cul- 
mination to  be  attained  only  by  intelligent  cooperation  with  sympa- 
thetic advisers  who  have  a  broader  view  of  the  situation  than  he  can 
(possibly  possess.  I/In  many  respects  the  need  of  vocational  guidance 
is  distinctly  a  modern  one,  and  one  that  is  peculiarly  associated  with 
democratic   institutions.     The   complexity  and  specialization  of   all 
types  of  work  hi  modern  society  render  it  increasingly  difficult  for  the 
youth  to  know  how  or  where  to  take  hold  that  he  may  finally  be  able 
^o  do  a  man's  part.     This  was  not  the  case  even  a  few  decades  ago. 
•  Under  simpler  conditions,  it  was  comparatively  easy  for  a  boy  to  find 
•j  (something  fitted  to  his  taste  and  ability.     Furthermore,  this  is  a  prob- 
Ilem  of  democracy,  because  under  such  a  form  of  government  there  is 
[less  fixity  in  occupations  in  a  family  or  small  group.     Boys  tend  less 
{and  less  to  follow  their  fathers'  occupations.     Things  are  shifting  and 
i  ftuent.     In  a  society  where  a  boy's  career  was  determined  for  him  by 
•that  of  his  father,  he  had  at  least  something  definite  to  which  he  might 
jiook  forward.     He  might  not  be  well  suited  for  it,  but  he,  at  least,  did 
I  not  waste  time  in  trying,  perhaps  fu  tilery,  to  find  himself  somewhere 
telse.     Such  a  system  has,  of  course,  obvious  disadvantages.     For  one 
c  (thing,  it  is  so  inflexible.     It  takes  no  account  of  individual  adaptabil- 
;.  ities.     But  even  this  could  scarcely  be  worse  than  that  the  boy  should 
•cut  loose  from  the  parental  occupation  and  try  unaided  to  find  a  place 
Iffor  himself  in  the  labyrinth  of  modern  society.     The  possibilities  of 
| (misfits  and  failures  are  as  great,  if  not  far  greater,  than  where  the  boy" 
followed  in  the  steps  of  his  father.     The  question  to-day,  however,  is 
Ipot  as  to  the  desirability  of  going  back  to  the  old  condition  of  fixity. 
The  whole  idea  is  repugnant  to  the  sense  of  individual  freedom  and 
[personal  initiative,  which,  whether  right  or  wrong,  has  been  fostered 
I  En  modern  society,  and  if  society  fosters  such  attitudes,  it  must  ap- 
Ibarently  face  the  problem  of  how  to  turn  them  to  profitable  account. 
It  is  possible  that  the  failure  thus  far  to  make  any  adequate  provision 
for  the  vocational  guidance  of  youth  is  one  of  the  subtle  effects  of  the 
old  and  vicious  doctrine  of  laissez  faire  and  unlimited  individual  free- 
dom, —  the  theory  that  people  must  be  let  alone  in  all  their  compli- 


i8o  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF   EDUCATION 

cated  interrelations,  —  that  in  this  way  the  best  possible  social  and  in- 
dustrial adjustments  will  work  out  automatically.     Whatever  might 
have  been  true  of  a  simpler  social  order,  we  know  that  in  the  world  of 
to-day  this  let-alone  policy  can  breed  only  the  gravest  abuses.     The 
self-interest  of  the  employer  will  not  lead  him  to  properly  safeguard 
the  employee  nor  to  give  him  a  living  wage.    The  self-interest  of  the 
merchant  will  not  insure  to  the  buyer  of  his  goods  full  measure  nor 
standard  quality.     The  theory  and  the  practice  of  non-interferenc 
in  the  choice  of  a  vocation  is  apparently  a  part  of  this  outworn  theor 
of  non-interference  in  general  social  matters.    To  give  definite  and 
systematic  counsel  to  the  boy  or  to  the  girl  would  infringe  on  nati 
freedom.    In  some  mysterious  way  the  native  bent  and  capacity 
the  youth  would  be  an  unerring  guide.    The  very  word  "  calling  : 
is  itself  an  expression  of  the  idea  that  each  one  is  predestined  in  some 
way  to  a  particular  life  work.     Such  an  idea  is  not  altogether  without 
its  value  or  suggestiveness.    The  difficulty,  however,  of  the  youth's 
finding  the  thing  he  is  best  fitted  for  is  becoming  increasingly  apparent 
The  ease  with  which  boys  are  at  the  close  of  compulsory  school  drav 
into  the  well-named  blind  alley  occupations  is  of  itself  sufficient  e\ 
dence  of  how  vital  is  the  need  of  vocational  guidance.    It  is  a  ne 
common  to  all  civilized  peoples.    The  recent  report  of  the  Englis 
Royal  Commission  on  the  Poor  Laws  and  Relief  of  Distress  throv 
into  clear  light  conditions  more  and  more  prevalent  in  both  Europ 
and  America.    We  cannot  do  better  than  quote  Bloomfield's  comment 
upon  this  report.     It  is  true,  as  he  says,  that  "  such  employments 
that  of  errand  boy  are  not  necessarily  demoralizing.     Many  a  bo> 
has  started  in  this  humble  way  on  a  career  of  success.     But  calling 
like  this  are  apt  to  waste  the  years  during  which  a  boy  should  mat 
a  beginning  at  a  skilled  or  developing  occupation.     The  probabilitie 
are  that  younger,  but  trained,  competitors  eventually  oust  the 
trained  workers,  and  at  a  time  when  these  untrained  workers 
charged  with  adult  responsibilities. 

"The  necessity  of  guidance  intended  to  avert  the  entrance  of  thou 
sands  of  boys  and  girls  into  a  vocational  cul-de-sac  is  appreciated  b} 
this  Committee.  Its  conviction  is  clearly  expressed  that  the  mos 
dangerous  point  in  the  lives  of  children  in  an  elementary  school  is  the 
moment  at  which  they  leave  it.  The  investigations  have  shown  hov 


VOCATIONAL  DIRECTION  181 

difficult  is  the  taking  of  the  right  step  at  this  stage,  and  the  lament- 
able consequences  of  taking  the  wrong  one.  This  difficulty  is  due  in 
large  measure  to  the  inability  of  parents  to  get  the  necessary  informa- 
tion as  to  the  conditions  of  employment,  the  wages  and  the  future 
prospects  of  various  occupations,  as  well  as  a  knowledge  of  the  edu- 
cational opportunities  and  requirements  for  efficiency  in  the  occu- 
pations. The  Committee  has  found  that  there  are  parents  who  are 
under  no  compulsion  to  send  their  children  to  work,  and  that  they 
would  be  both  willing  and  able  to  accept  lower  wages  at  first  for  the 
sake  of  subsequent  advantages  in  the  vocations;  but  their  ignorance 
of  these  matters  makes  it  impossible  for  them  to  select  wisely  for  their 
children. 

" '  Unless  children  are  thus  cared  for  at  this  turning  point  in  their 
lives,'  says  the  Consultative  Committee,  '  the  store  of  knowledge  and 
discipline  acquired  at  school  will  be  quickly  dissipated,  and  they 
will  soon  become  unfit  either  for  employment  or  for  further  edu- 
cation.' 

".The  intervening  years,  then,  between  leaving  school,  which  the 
great  majority  do  at  fourteen  years  of  age,  and  the  entrance  into  an 
occupation  that  promises  any  development  at  all  are  largely  wasted. 
Society  gains  little  by  the  labor  of  thousands  of  its  children  at  the  most 
important  period  of  their  growth.  It  is  not  that  much  of  this  work  is 
not  of  social  value,  but  with  our  present  neglect  we  offer  no  corrective 
for  the  injury  that  follows.  The  reports  of  the  two  commissions  on 
Industrial  Education  in  Massachusetts;  investigations  into  street 
trades  in  Boston,  Chicago  and  elsewhere;  and  all  the  observations 
of  the  child-saving  societies  in  this  country  confirm  the  Royal  Com- 
mission's alarm  over  juvenile  labor  as  now  performed. 

"  The  employer  is  very  often  as  much  a  victim  of  these  conditions  as 
the  boy  himself.  The  allurement  of  high  wages  for  uninstructive  work 
is  soon  understood  by  many  a  boy,  and  his  restlessness  in  these  occu- 
pations, where  often,  without  any  provocation,  he  throws  up  his  place, 
is  a  constant  source  of  vexation  and  destroys  any  plan  which  the  em- 
ployer might  have  in  view  for  the  promotion  of  his  boys.  This  skip- 
ping from  job  to  job  can  only  mean  for  most  boys  demoralization. 
They  become  vocational  hobos.  They  are  given  work  only  because 
nobody  else  is  in  sight,  and  they  stay  at  work  as  little  as  they  may. 
Juvenile  wages  are  their  portion,  no  matter  what  services  they  render, 
nor  for  how  long  a  period.  A  tragic  situation  is  here  disclosed.  Not 
only  do  we  find  that  modern  working  conditions  '  put  a  man  on  the 
shelf  '  in  the  prime  of  his  years,  because  the  speed  and  skill  of  younger 
brains  and  hands  are  required,  but  we  find,  too,  a  shelving  of  youth 
itself  before  life  has  given  the  young  workers  even  an  opening.  They 
seem  doomed  to  be  juvenile  adults  bound  by  an  iron  law  of  juvenile 


182  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

wages.  The  '  dead  end/  or  '  blind  alley/  occupations,  therefore, 
with  their  bait  of  high  initial  wages  and  their  destructiveness  to  any 
serious  life-work  motive  are  breeding  costly  social  evils.  Unanimous 
testimony  on  this  point  by  the  special  investigators  of  the  Royal  Com- 
mission has  led  to  the  opinion  that  this  perhaps  is  the  most  serious  of 
all  the  problems  encountered  in  its  study  of  unemployment.  A  term 
of  sinister  import  has  been  coined  to  describe  the  products  of  this 
vocational  anarchy  —  the  Unemployables. 

"  The  unemployables  are  people  whom  no  ordinary  employer  would 
willingly  employ,  not  necessarily  because  of  their  physical  or  mental 
capacity,  but  because  their  economic  backbone  has  been  broken.  The 
wasted  years  have  landed  their  innocent  victims  on  economic  quick 
sands.  Attractive  wages  with  no  training,  the  illegitimate  use  o 
youthful  energy,  long  hours  of  monotonous  and  uneducative  work 
have  produced  at  his  majority  a  young  man  often  precocious  in  evi 
and  stunted  in  his  vocational  possibilities." 

Two  natural  consequences  of  the  doctrine  of  "  hands  off  "  are  to  be 
noted.     In  the  first  place,  while  a  few  men  and  women  of  pronouncec 
talent  and  initiative  do  find  their  proper  work,  or,  if   it  does  no 
already  exist,  they  carve  it  out  for  themselves,  the  vast  bulk  drif 
into  this  or  that  work  purely  by  chance.     They  have  no  clear  idea  o 
their  own  capacities  nor  of  the  different  types  of  opportunities  open 
to  them  in  the  world.     Often  it  is  admiration  of  the  work  of  a  con- 
spicuously successful  man  or  woman  which  determines  the  choice. 
More  often  it  is  the  opportunity  for  work  that  lies  closest  at  hand  and 
which  seems  most  desirable  merely  because  the  youth  has  no  clear 
idea  of  anything  else.     The  majority  of  men  and  women  admit  thatjthe 
choice  of  their  life  work  was  more  or  less  fortuitous.   There  was  no  care- 
ful study  of  social  needs,  no  careful  attempt  to  determine  the  relation 
of  one's  individual  resources  to  these  needs.    The  individual  as  well  as 
the  social  waste  involved  in  such  a  procedure  is  of  course  incalcu- 
lable. 

In  the  second  place,  from  this  doctrine  of  "  hands  off,"  it  has  been 
almost  inevitable  that  the  youth  postpones  his  choice  of  a  vocation 
unduly.  How  common  it  is  for  a  young  man  of  twenty  or  even  older 
to  say  that  he  does  not  know  yet  what  he  will  do !  Naturally  it  is  be- 
coming harder  and  harder  for  a  youth  to  find  himself,  —  and  so  there 
are  wasted  years  of  indecision,  of  haphazard  application  of  energy 
whether  he  be  out  of  school  or  in.  His  elders  may  even  encourage  him 


VOCATIONAL  DIRECTION  183 

in  his  indecision,  assuring  him  that  there  is  no  hurry,  and  that  he 
will  find  out  in  good  time  what  he  is  best  able  to  do.  There  are  seri- 
ous objections  to  this  point  of  view.  In  the  first  place,  it  deprives  the 
boy,  especially  while  in  school,  of  any  sufficient  motive  for  his  study. 
Lack  of  adequate  motivation  is  the  crying  defect  of  the  traditional 
type  of  adolescent  education  which  still  largely  prevails.  In  fact,  the 
courses  of  study  are  planned  for  "general  training"  as  if  to  keep  from 
the  boy  as  long  as  possible  the  thought  that  he  will  ever  have  to  do  any 
specific  work. 

There  is  beginning,  however,  to  be  a  significant  change  along  this 
line  in  the  attitude  of  thoughtful  people.  It  is  seen  to  be  quite  con- 
sistent with  a  broad  and  liberal  training  that  there  should  be  an  ear- 
lier appreciation  of  a  life  purpose.  In  fact,  such  a  purpose  vitalizes 
the  school  work  of  the  adolescent.  It  awakens  his  energies  and  gives 
him  enthusiasm,  where  before  he  worked  with  indifference  and  even 
apathy. 

The  life  motive  not  only  may  appear  in  early  adolescence;  the  con- 
ditions should  even  be  such  as  to  encourage  its  early  appearance.  To 
be  sure,  there  is  danger  of  putting  this  problem  prematurely  to  boys 
and  girls,  but  the  possibility  of  going  to  an  extreme  in  this  direction 
is  not  a  good  excuse  for  ignoring  it  altogether.  The  wise  course  is, 
step  by  step,  according  to  the  age  of  the  child,  to  call  his  attention  to 
the  importance  of  his  life  work,  and  by  wise  counsel  set  him  to  thinking 
along  such  lines.  As  he  grows  older,  the  problem  will  become  more 
and  more  definite.  When  he  finally  faces  the  crisis  of  an  actual  choice, 
he  will  be  able  to  make  it  intelligently  instead  of  blindly. 

That  there  can  be  an  early  and  yet  sensible  cultivation  of  life  mo- 
tives culminating  in  intelligent  choice  of  a  vocation  is  being  proved 
abundantly  by  the  practical  work  that  has  already  been  done  in  many 
places.  Its  ultimate  success  depends  upon  the  development  in  the 
first  place  of  what  Bloomfield  calls  "  a  new  profession,  that  of  the 
vocational  counselor." 

In  the  second  place,  it  demands  a  careful  and  often  continued  study 
of  the  individual,  not  merely  that  he  may  come  to  a  consciousness  of 
his  own  powers,  or  that  he  may  be  on  the  guard  against  habits  of  body 
and  mind  that  will  tend  to  hinder  him  in,  if  not  actually  to  disqualify 
him  for,  the  vocation  he  may  choose  to  follow,  but  also  that  the  vo- 


1 84  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

cation  counselor  may  have  accurate  knowledge  of  the  person  whom  he 
advises. 

In  the  third  place,  the  success  of  vocational  guidance  demands  an 
intimate  and  continued  study  of  the  various  occupations  with  refer- 
ence to  the  need  of  new  workers,  the  mental  and  physical  qualities 
requisite  for  success,  etc. 

Whether  carried  on  directly  under  the  supervision  of  the  school  or 
by  outside  agencies  in  cooperation  with  the  school,  it  is  essentially  an 
educational   enterprise   of  the  highest  social  significance.     "  Early 
in  the  spring  of  1909,  the  School  Committee  of  Boston  passed  a  reso 
lution  inviting  the  Vocation  Bureau  to  submit  a  plan  for  vocationa 
guidance  to  assist  the  public  school  graduates.    The  Bureau  pre 
sented  the  following  suggestions :  — 

"  Fir sty  the  Bureau  will  employ  a  vocational  director  to  give  practi- 
cally his  entire  time  to  the  organization  of  vocational  counsel  to 
the  graduates  of  the  Boston  Public  Schools  during  the  ensuing 
year. 

"  Second,  the  work  of  this  vocational  director  shall  be  carried  on  in 
cooperation  with  the  Boston  School  Committee  or  the  Superintendent 
of  Schools  as  the  Committee  shall  see  fit. 

"  Third,  it  is  the  plan  of  the  Bureau  to  have  this  vocational  direc- 
tor organize  a  conference  of  masters  and  teachers  of  the  Boston  high 
schools  through  the  Committee  or  the  Superintendent,  so  that  members 
of  the  graduating  classes  will  be  met  for  vocational  advice  either  by 
this  vocational  director  or  by  the  cooperating  schoolmasters  anc 
teachers,  all  working  along  a  general  plan,  to  be  adopted  by  this 
conference. 

"  Fourth,  the  vocational  director  should,  in  cooperation  with  the 
Superintendent  of  Schools  or  any  person  whom  he  may  appoint,  ar- 
range vocational  lectures  for  the  members  of  the  graduating 
classes. 

"  Fifth,  the  Bureau  believes  that  schoolmasters  and  teachers  should 
be  definitely  trained  to  give  vocational  counsel,  and  therefore,  that 
it  is  advisable  for  this  vocational  director,  in  cooperation  with  the 
Superintendent  of  Schools,  to  establish  a  series  of  conferences  to 
which  certain  selected  teachers  and  masters  should  be  invited  on 
condition  that  they  will  agree  in  turn  definitely  to  do  vocationa] 
counseling  with  their  own  pupils. 

"  Sixth,  the  vocational  director  will  keep  a  careful  record  of  the 
work  accomplished  for  the  pupils  during  the  year,  the  number  of 
pupils  counseled  with,  the  attitude  of  the  pupils  with  reference 


VOCATIONAL  DIRECTION  185 

to  a  choice  of  vocations,  the  advice  given,  and,  as  far  as  pos- 
sible, the  results  following.  These  records  should  form  the  basis 
for  a  report  to  the  Boston  School  Committee  at  the  end  of  the  year. 
The  Bureau  cherishes  the  hope  that  it  can  so  demonstrate  the  practi- 
cability and  value  of  this  work  that  the  Boston  School  Committee 
will  eventually  establish  in  its  regular  organization  a  supervisor 
of  vocational  advice. " 1 

Acting  under  the  direction  of  the  Boston  School  Committee,  the 
Superintendent  of  Schools  appointed  a  committee  of  six  to  work  with 
the  Vocation  Bureau  director  in  that  city.  After  nearly  a  year's 
work,  this  committee  rendered  the  following  report,  which  is  quoted 
because  it  indicates  some  of  the  practical  aspects  of  the  work  as  well 
as  its  dominant  ideals. 

"  The  Committee  on  Vocational  Direction  respectfully  presents 
the  following  as  a  report  for  the  school  year  just  closed.  The  past 
year  has  been  a  year  of  beginnings,  the  field  of  operation  being  large 
and  the  problems  complicated.  A  brief  survey  of  the  work  shows  the 
following  results :  — 

"  A  general  interest  in  vocational  direction  has  been  aroused  among 
the  teachers  of  Boston,  not  only  in  the  elementary  but  in  the  high 
schools. 

"  A  vocational  counselor,  or  a  committee  of  such  counselors,  has 
been  appointed  in  every  high  school  and  in  all  but  one  of  the  elemen- 
tary schools. 

"  A  vocational  card  record  of  every  elementary  school  graduate 
for  this  year  has  been  made,  to  be  forwarded  to  the  high  school  in  the 
fall. 

"  Stimulating  vocational  lectures  have  been  given  to  thirty  of  the 
graduating  classes  of  the  elementary  schools  of  Boston,  including  all 
the  schools  in  the  more  congested  parts  of  the  city. 

"  Much  has  been  done  by  way  of  experiment  by  the  members  of 
this  committee  in  the  various  departments  of  getting  employment, 
counseling  and  following  up  pupils  after  leaving  school. 

"  The  interest  and  loyal  cooperation  of  many  of  the  leading  philan- 
thropic societies  of  Boston  have  been  secured,  as  well  as  of  many 
prominent  in  the  business  and  professional  life  of  the  city  and  the 
state. 

"  A  good  beginning  has  already  been  made  in  reviewing  books  suit- 
able for  vocational  libraries  in  the  schools. 

1  Bloomfield,  Vocational  Guidance  of  Youth,  pp.  32-34. 


1 86  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

"  It  was  early  decided  that  we  should  confine  our  efforts  for  the 
first  year  mainly  to  pupils  of  the  highest  elementary  grade  as  the  best 
point  of  contact.  The  problem  of  vocational  aid  and  counsel  in  the 
high  schools  has  not  as  yet  been  directly  dealt  with,  yet  much  that  is 
valuable  has  been  accomplished  in  all  our  high  schools  on  the  initiative 
of  the  head  masters  and  selected  teachers.  It  is  safe  to  say  that  the 
quality  and  amount  of  vocational  aid  and  direction  has  far  exceeded 
any  hitherto  given  in  those  schools.  The  committee,  through  open 
and  private  conferences,  and  correspondence  with  the  head  masters, 
have  kept  in  close  touch  with  the  situation  in  high  schools,  but  they 
feel  that  for  the  present  year  it  is  best  for  the  various  types  of  high 
schools  each  to  work  out  its  own  plan  of  vocational  direction. 
The  facts  regarding  their  experience  can  properly  be  made  the 
basis  of  a  later  report.  A  committee  of  three,  appointed  by  the 
Head  Master's  Association,  stands  ready  to  advise  with  this  com- 
mittee on  all  matters  relating  to  high  school  vocational  interests 
Once  during  the  year  the  principals  of  the  specialized  schools 
met  in  conference  the  vocational  counselors  of  the  city  and  have 
presented  the  aims  and  curricula  of  these  schools  in  such  a  way  as  to 
greatly  enlighten  those  responsible  for  advising  pupils  entering  high 
schools. 

"  The  committee  have  held  regular  weekly  meetings  through  the 
school  year  since  September.  At  these  meetings  every  phase  of  vo- 
cational aid  has  been  discussed,  together  with  its  adaptability  to  our 
present  educational  system.  Our  aim  has  been  to  test  the  various 
conclusions  before  recommending  them  for  adoption.  This  has  taken 
time.  Our  most  serious  problem  so  far  has  been  to  adapt  our  plans 
to  conditions  as  we  find  them,  without  increasing  the  teacher s'  work 
and  without  greatly  increased  expense.  We  have  assumed  that  the 
movement  was  not  a  temporary  '  fad/  but  that  it  had  a  perma- 
nent value,  and  was  therefore  worthy  the  serious  attention  of 
educators. 

"Three  aims  have  stood  out  above  all  others:  first,  to  secure 
thoughtful  consideration,  on  the  part  of  parents,  pupils  and  teachers, 
of  the  importance  of  a  life-career  motive ;  second,  to  assist  in  every- 
way possible  in  placing  pupils  in  some  remunerative  work  on  leaving 
school ;  and  third,  to  keep  in  touch  with  and  help  them  thereafter,  sug- 
gesting means  of  improvement  and  watching  the  advancement  of 
those  who  need  such  aid.  The  first  aim  has  been  in  some  measure 
achieved  throughout  the  city.  The  other  two  have  thus  far  been 
worked  out  only  by  the  individual  members  of  the  committee.  As  a 
result  we  are  very  firmly  of  the  opinion  that  until  some  central  bureau 
of  information  for  pupils  regarding  trades  and  mercantile  opportuni- 
ties is  established,  and  some  effective  system  of  sympathetically  fol- 


VOCATIONAL  DIRECTION  187 

lowing  up  pupils,  for  a  longer  or  a  shorter  period  after  leaving  school, 
is  organized  in  our  schools  as  centers,  the  effort  to  advise  and  direct 
merely  will  largely  fail.  Both  will  require  added  executive  labor 
which  will  fall  upon  the  teachers  at  first.  We  believe  they  will  accept 
the  responsibility.  If,  as  Dr.  Eliot  says,  teachers  find  those  schools 
more  interesting  where  the  life-career  motive  is  present,  then  the  sooner 
that  motive  is  discovered  in  the  majority  of  pupils  the  more  easily 
will  the  daily  work  be  done  and  the  product  correspondingly  im-  s 
proved. 

"  In  order  to  enlist  the  interest  and  cooperation  of  the  teachers  of 
Boston,  three  mass  meetings,  one  in  October  and  two  in  the  early 
spring,  were  held.  A  fourth  meeting  with  the  head  masters  of  high 
schools  was  also  held  with  the  same  object.  As  a  most  gratifying 
result  the  general  attitude  is  most  sympathetic  and  the  enthusiasm 
marked.  The  vocation  counselors  in  high  and  elementary  schools 
form  a  working  organization  of  over  a  hundred  teachers,  represent- 
ing all  the  schools.  A  responsible  official,  or  committee,  in  each  school 
stands  ready  to  advise  pupils  and  parents  at  times  when  they  most 
need  advice  and  are  asking  for  it.  They  suggest  whatever  helps  may 
be  available  in  further  educational  preparation.  They  are  ready  to 
fit  themselves  professionally  to  do  this  work  more  intelligently  and 
discriminatingly,  not  only  by  meeting  together  for  mutual  counsel 
and  exchange  of  experience,  but  by  study  and  expert  preparation  if 
need  be. 

"  As  a  beginning  of  our  work  with  pupils  we  have  followed  out  two 
lines :  the  lecture  and  the  card  record.  The  addresses  have  been 
mainly  stimulating  and  inspirational.  It  seems  to  the  committee, 
however,  that  specific  information  coming  from  those  intimately  con- 
nected with  certain  lines  of  labor  should  have  a  place  also  in  this 
lecture  phase  of  our  work.  In  a  large  number  of  high  and  elementary 
schools  addresses  of  this  character  have  been  given  by  experts  during 
the  year.  The  committee  claim  no  credit  for  these,  though  carried 
out  under  the  inspiration  of  the  movement  the  committee  represent. 
The  custom  of  having  such  addresses  given  before  Junior  Alumni 
Associations,  Parents'  Associations  and  evening  school  gatherings 
has  become  widespread,  the  various  masters  taking  the  initiative  in 
such  cases.  The  speakers  are  able  to  quote  facts  with  an  authority 
that  is  convincing  to  the  pupil  and  leads  him  to  take  a  more  serious  view 
of  his  future  plans,  especially  if  the  address  is  followed  by  similar  talks 
from  the  class  teacher,  emphasizing  the  points  of  the  speaker.  This 
is  a  valuable  feature  and  should  be  extended  to  include  more  of 
the  elementary  grades,  especially  in  the  more  densely  settled 
portions  of  the  city,  from  which  most  of  our  unskilled  workers 
come. 


1 88  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

"  A  vocational  record  card,  calling  for  elementary  school  data  on 
one  side  and  for  high  school  data  on  the  other,  has  been  furnished  al 
the  elementary  schools  for  registration  of  this  year's  graduates.    The 
same  card  will  be  furnished  to  high  schools  this  fall.    These  card 
are  to  be  sent  forward  by  the  elementary  school  counselors  to  hig] 
schools  in  September,  to  be  revised  twice  during  the  high  school  course 
The  value  of  the  card  record  is  not  so  much  in  the  registering  of  cer 
tain  data  as  in  the  results  of  the  process  of  getting  these.    The  effec 
upon  the  mental  attitude  of  pupil,  teacher  and  parent  is  excellent 
and  makes  an  admirable  beginning  in  the  plan  of  vocational  direction 

"  The  committee  are  now  in  a  position  where  they  must  meet 
demand  of  both  pupils  and  teachers  for  vocational  enlightenment. 
Pupils  should  have  detailed  information  in  the  form  of  inexpensive 
handbooks,  regarding  the  various  callings  and  how  to  get  into  them, 
wages,  permanence  of  employment,  chance  of  promotion,  etc.  Teach- 
ers must  have  a  broader  outlook  upon  industrial  opportunities  for 
boys  and  girls.  Even  those  teachers  who  know  their  pupils  well 
generally  have  little  acquaintance  with  industrial  conditions.  The 
majority  can  advise  fairly  well  how  to  prepare  for  a  profession,  while 
few  can  tell  a  boy  how  to  get  into  a  trade,  or  what  the  opportunities 
therein  are.  In  this  respect  our  teachers  will  need  to  be  more  broadly 
informed  regarding  social,  industrial  and  economic  problems.  We 
have  to  face  a  more  serious  problem  in  a  crowded  American  city  than 
in  a  country  where  children  are  supposed  to  follow  the  father's  trade. 

"  In  meeting  the  two  most  pressing  needs,  viz.  the  vocational 
enlightenment  of  teachers,  parents  and  pupils,  and  the  training  of 
vocational  counselors,  we  shall  continue  to  look  for  aid  to  the  Voca- 
tional Bureau.  The  Bureau  has  been  of  much  assistance  during  the 
past  year,  in  fact  indispensable,  in  matters  of  correspondence,  securing 
information,  getting  out  printed  matter  and  in  giving  the  committee 
counsel  based  upon  a  superior  knowledge  of  men  and  conditions  in  the 
business  world. 

"  The  question  of  vocational  direction  is  merely  one  phase  of  the 
greater  question  of  vocational  education.  As  a  contributory  influ- 
ence we  believe  serious  aggressive  work  in  this  line  will  lead  to  several 
definite  results,  aside  from  the  direct  benefit  to  the  pupils.  It  will 
create  a  demand  for  better  literature  on  the  subject  of  vocations.  It 
will  help  increase  the  demand  for  more  and  better  trade  schools.  It 
will  cause  teachers  to  seek  to  broaden  their  knowledge  of  opportunities 
for  mechanical  and  mercantile  training.  Lastly,  it  will  tend  to  a  more 
intelligent  and  generous  treatment  of  employees  by  business  houses,  the 
personal  welfare  and  prospects  of  the  employee  being  taken  into  ac- 
count as  well  as  the  interests  of  the  house  itself."  1 

1  Reprinted  in  Bloomfield,  op.  cit.  pp.  35-41. 


VOCATIONAL  DIRECTION  189 

Report  of  the  Students'  Aid   Committee  of  the  New  York  City 
High  School  Teachers'  Association  on  Vocational  Guidance 

There  are  now  in  all  the  day  and  evening  high  schools  of  New  York 
City  special  committees  whose  aim  it  is  to  aid  deserving  students  to 
secure  employment  during  vacations  and  for  out-of-school  hours  in 
order  to  earn  a  part  of  their  support ;  to  advise  those  who  are  ready 
to  leave  school,  and  others  who  are  compelled  to  leave  school,  in  the 
choice  of  a  vocation;  to  direct  them  how  best  to  fit  themselves  for 
their  chosen  vocation  and  to  assist  them  in  securing  employment  which 
will  lead  to  success  in  those  vocations.  All  these  local  committees 
have  representatives  in  the  general  committee  of  the  association.  .  .  . 

The  general  committee  has  been  aiming  to  assist  the  local  com- 
mittees of  the  several  schools:  (i)  by  bringing  to  the  attention  of 
employers  the  fact  that  the  schools  are  willing  and  ready  to  help  them 
to  select  suitable  recruits  for  their  service ;  (2)  by  collecting  information 
in  regard  to  the  opportunities  which  are  open  to  the  high  school  stu- 
dents who  must  seek  employment;  (3)  by  setting  on  foot  movements 
for  securing  vacation  employment. 

Vacation  employment  has  been  found  helpful  to  those  who  must 
earn  something  towards  their  own  support  in  order  to  continue  in 
school :  (i)  in  supplying  a  little  money  to  the  boy  whose  growing  spirit 
of  independence  tempts  him  to  break  with  the  school  in  order  to  satisfy 
that  spirit  through  the  possession  of  some  money  of  his  own ;  (2)  in 
giving  to  the  boy  who  becomes  restless  under  the  conditions  of  school 
work  a  taste  of  the  prosy  work-a-day  world  so  that  he  may  be  better 
satisfied  afterwards  with  the  restrictions  which  the  school  must 
impose.  .  .  . 

Regarding  the  relative  efficiency  of  the  high  school  product  it  may 
be  noted  that  of  the  ten  thousand  students  who  went  out  of  the  high 
schools  into  the  commercial  and  industrial  worlds  less  than  10  per 
cent  applied  to  the  committee  for  assistance  and  advice  in  the  matter 
of  securing  employment.  It  may  be  assumed  that  among  this  tenth 
were  those  who  were  the  most  helpless.  At  four  different  times  during 
the  year  the  registers  of  applicants  for  employment  were  practically 
exhausted.  This  means  that  all  the  students  who  went  out  of  these 
schools  seeking  employment  had  no  difficulty  in  finding  employment, 
and  yet  the  reports  of  a  hundred  and  ninety-three  representative 
labor  unions  for  December,  1908,  indicate  that  out  of  sixty  thousand 
members  28  per  cent  were  out  of  employment.  A  canvass  of  all  of 
the  eleven  hundred  students  attending  one  of  the  large  evening  high 
schools  during  the  last  week  of  December  indicated  that  only  thirty- 
two,  or  less  than  3  per  cent,  were  unemployed.  Within  a  week  the 


SOCIAL   ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

local  committee  representing  the  school  was  enabled  to  place  three 
fourths  of  that  number.  The  students  attending  the  evening  high 
schools  are,  for  the  most  part,  those  who  are  compelled  to  drop  out  of 
the  day  school.  Another  significant  fact  bearing  on  this  question 
is  the  report  of  an  investigation  made  about  the  same  time  by  the 
Society  for  Improving  the  Condition  of  the  Poor  of  one  thousand 
consecutive  applicants  to  the  employment  department  of  that  society 
for  assistance.  It  was  found  that  40  per  cent  of  them  were  skilled 
laborers,  and  that  the  idleness  of  only  3  per  cent  of  the  entire  number 
was  due  to  inefficiency.  These  were  also  products  of  our  public  schools. 
Their  condition  seems  to  have  been  due  not  so  much  to  the  inefficiency 
of  the  schools  from  which  they  came  as  to  the  faulty  industrial  organ- 
izations which  could  not  utilize  their  efficiency. 

That  employers  are  ready  to  use  the  product  of  the  schools  proves 
that  this  product  is  economically  efficient,  that  the  students  who  go 
out  of  the  schools  in  their  immaturity  readily  find  employment  during 
a  season  when  labor  is  far  in  excess  of  the  demand,  proves  that  the  high 
school  student  is  relatively  more  efficient  than  any  other  class  in  the 
labor  market.  If  the  high  school  product  does  not  continue  to  develop 
after  it  enters  the  market,  it  may  prove  that  employers  do  not  so 
organize  their  forces  as  to  enable  the  employee  to  continue  his  develop- 
ment after  he  enters  their  service. 

It  is  time  that  the  schools,  which  have  been  subjected  to  the  criti- 
cisms of  the  employers,  should  know  what  after  care  the  students 
receive  who  go  out  from  their  walls.  What  would  it  profit  the  future 
of  the  state  if  she  were  to  set  aside  her  forest  preserves,  secure  plants 
of  good  stock,  prepare  the  ground  and  set  out  the  seedlings,  and  then 
leave  the  young  plants  without  thought  or  care  to  the  mercenary  who 
would  exploit  them  for  his  own  advantage  ?  The  state  does  not  per- 
mit the  intelligent  and  wealthy  orphan  of  eighteen  to  intrust  her 
fortune  to  the  keeping  of  her  relative  without  the  consent  and  over- 
sight of  the  courts,  and  yet  she  permits  the  well-trained  but  poor  boy, 
who  has  no  asset  in  the  world  but  his  time  and  his  ambition,  to  sell 
the  same  in  the  market,  without  oversight  or  advice,  to  the  employers 
of  a  city,  among  whom  are  those  whose  inhumanity  has  compelled 
the  legislature  to  place  upon  our  statute  books  the  pitifully  inadequate 
child  labor  laws.  The  government  does  not  permit  a  grocer  to  sell 
to  a  millionaire  a  bottle  of  milk  without  its  supervision,  and  yet  it 
stands  idly  by  while  a  young  man  or  a  boy  gives  the  precious  years  of 
his  youth  for  less  than  his  board  and  clothes  to  an  employer  in  ex- 
change for  prospects  of  advancement  which  the  employer  knows 
have  no  existence  except  in  his  own  "  help  wanted  "  advertisement. 

If  the  government  which  has  found  it  necessary  to  compel  reform 
in  the  advertisements  of  food  products  and  proprietary  medicine  will 


VOCATIONAL  DIRECTION  191 

compel  every  advertiser  for  help  to  give  his  proper  name  and  address, 
and  to  state  what  he  expects  and  what  he  is  willing  to  pay,  a  great 
service  will  be  done  for  the  most  helpless  part  of  our  population. 

A  study  made  by  Mr.  H.  G.  Paine  at  the  request  of  the  Charity 
Organization  Society  into  the  character  of  the  "  help  wanted  "  adver- 
tisements in  two  representative  New  York  dailies  for  twelve  Sunday 
issues  showed  that  out  of  a  total  of  18,214  advertisements,  6130  were 
fakes.  This  is  a  most  wasteful  process,  to  say  the  least.  Its  bearing 
on  the  education  of  youth  may  be  illustrated  by  a  typical  case  of  a 
genuine  advertisement.  On  a  rainy  morning  in  July,  one  of  the 
members  of  the  committee  went  with  a  timid  small  boy  to  a  stock 
broker's  office  in  answer  to  an  attractive  advertisement  for  a  bright, 
well-educated  office  boy.  They  found  the  outer  office  crowded  with 
small  boys.  The  manager  supposed  that  the  only  man  in  the  crowd 
was  a  prospective  customer,  called  him  into  the  office,  and  engaged  his 
boy,  joked  about  the  mob  outside,  and  directed  his  clerk  to  scatter  it. 
The  so-called  mob  of  small  boys  consisted  of  a  score  of  boys  who  had 
been  graduated  from  the  public  schools  the  week  before,  got  up  early, 
scanned  the  papers,  dressed  themselves  up,  started  out  into  the  strange 
parts  of  the  city,  morning  after  morning,  spending  their  scant  allow- 
ance of  pocket  money  in  car  fares  to  meet  with  most  inconsiderate 
receptions  and  to  write  letters  which  were  rarely  answered.  After 
each  unsuccessful  application  they  placed  lower  and  lower  estimates 
upon  their  own  value.  It  was  found  afterwards  that  in  this  particular 
case  the  opening  for  the  boy  was  to  be  only  for  the  time  during  which 
the  regular  boy  was  absent  on  his  vacation. 

The  day  after  this  episode,  the  newspaper,  to  show  what  a  valuable 
advertising  medium  it  conducted,  had  a  most  humorous  but  a  very 
unfeeling  account  of  how  it  had  rained  office  boys  in  Wall  Street  on 
the  previous  day.  This  account  was  accompanied  by  a  cartoon, 
and  the  chairman  of  the  committee  was  grateful  that  the  cartoonist 
was  ignorant  of  his  presence  in  the  deluge. 

The  present  methods  of  conducting  these  columns  permit  managers 
of  cheap  commercial  schools  and  irresponsible  employment  agencies 
to  insert  attractive  advertisements  for  the  purpose  of  securing  choice 
lists  of  addresses  to  which  to  mail  their  literature.  It  is  hard  to  under- 
stand why  a  reputable  newspaper  is  a  party  to  such  petty  frauds  upon 
the  poor  and  helpless. 

Let  us  look  at  a  few  young  people  through  the  eyes  of  the  employers 
in  order  that  we  may  note  what  the  causes  are  which  give  rise  to  the 
complaints  from  the  employers. 

I  will  quote  two  cases  which  may  emphasize  what  you  already 
know.  The  first  boy  has  nothing  in  his  favor  except  the  training  and 
the  ambition  which  he  has  received  in  the  public  schools  of  the  city. 


I92  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

He  was  graduated  in  February,  wanted  to  go  to  college,  but  had  to  go 
to  work  in  order  to  earn  the  money  wherewith  to  pay  his  college 
expenses.     The  Monday  after  he  had  been  graduated  he  went  to  wor] 
as  an  extra  clerk  in  a  large   financial  institution  following  another 
high  school  boy,  who  by  doing  the  work  in  this  position  during  hi 
out-of-college  hours  for  four  years  had  paid  his  college  expenses.     Thi 
boy  will  never  know  but  one  employer  until  he  is  ready  to  enter  upon 
the  practice  of  his  profession.     His  employer  may  never  know  thi 
boy  because  the  boy  is  not  one  of  the  blundering  kind,  and  in  the  grea 
concerns  of  this  city,  as  in  some  high  schools,  the  responsible  head 
become  well  acquainted  only  with  their  inefficient  subordinates. 

The  contrasting  case  is  that  of  a  boy  who  graduated  in  the  sam 
class  by  virtue  of  complying  with  the  minimum  requirements  of  th 
school.     The  employment  agent  of  his  school  declined  to  help  him 
until  he  had  shown  that  he  had  made  an  effort  of  his  own  in  the  direc 
tion  of  securing  employment.     After  several  weeks  he  came  back  wit 
proofs  that  he  had  applied  by  letter  or  in  person  to  over  a  hundrec 
employers.     He  was  directed  to  call  upon  his  adviser  at  nine  o'cloc 
the  following  Saturday  morning  to  go  to  interview  an  employer.     H 
called  at  eleven  instead,  because  his  father  "  needed  him  to  go  on  an 
errand  first."    As  an  advertisement  of  the  inefficiency  of  the  school 
he  is  going  about  among  employers  raising  himself  to  the  one  hun 
dredth  degree  while  your  efficient  product  stands  as  a  single  unit, 
is  because  the  employer  who  advertises  for  help  receives  his  replie 
largely  from  this  floating  and  misfit  element  that  the  schools  are  so 
harshly  judged.     The  remedy  is  found  by  teaching  the  employer  tha 
the  best  of  the  reserve  corps  is  in  the  rear  of  the  army  in  training,  anc 
not  among  those  who  are  playing  hide  and  seek  around  the  camp 
baggage. 

Of  course,  we  must  always  expect  to  find  some  ne'er-do-wells,  som 
who  cannot  represent  themselves  to  good  advantage  to    employers 
and  others  who  always  will  be  unemployable ;  but  it  becomes  us  so  to 
frame  our  courses  of  study  and  so  to  plan  the  routine  of  the  schools  a 
to  help  the  first  and  to  reduce  the  number  of  the  second  class.     W 
want  to  know  first  why  some  are  unemployable.     A  study  of  a  few 
concrete  cases  will  help  to  make  our  knowledge  definite. 

Some  do  not  readily  find  employment  because  of  a  lack  o 
knowledge  of  what  is  required  by  the  market.  From  one  of  ou 
high  schools  there  came  to  the  chairman  of  the  committee  recently  a 
young  man  who  was  called  home  in  the  middle  of  his  freshman  year  in 
college  because  of  a  domestic  catastrophe  which  had  shattered  his 
home.  His  mother  needed  his  help.  It  was  impossible  to  discharge 
his  new  obligations  by  accepting  the  meager  wages  which  are  usually 
paid  to  beginners.  Despondent  and  discouraged  as  he  was,  unskilled 


VOCATIONAL  DIRECTION  193 

and  unfitted  for  any  immediate  work,  he  wandered  around  the  city  for 
several  weeks  before  applying  to  his  former  teacher  by  whom  he  was 
sent  to  the  committee.  There  are  in  this  city  thousands  of  employers 
who  are  looking  for  such  young  men.  These  employers,  however,  do 
not  need  to  advertise  for  help.  Somewhat  awkward,  but  a  splendid 
specimen  of  young  manhood,  loyal  and  unselfish,  ambitious  and  deter- 
mined he  was.  He  was  not  at  an  age  when  he  could  present  himself 
to  good  advantage.  Within  a  week  he  was  placed  in  congenial  sur- 
roundings, and  the  committee  has  since  received  expressions  of  appre- 
ciation both  from  the  boy  and  from  the  employer. 

To  help  such  young  people  to  find  themselves,  this  newly  proposed 
vocation  society  can  do  a  great  service  by  making  available  to  them 
the  right  kind  of  information  at  the  time  when  they  may  need  it. 
The  committee,  prompted  by  the  need  of  such  information,  has  under- 
taken the  preparation  of  a  series  of  vocation  leaflets  covering  the  dif- 
ferent occupations  which  are  open  to  the  young  people  who  go  out  from 
the  high  schools.  In  these  are  set  forth  the  qualifications  necessary 
for  success  and  the  remuneration  and  rate  of  advancement  which  may 
be  expected  in  each  of  the  several  lines.  These  leaflets  will  be  printed 
as  fast  as  the  funds  of  the  committee  will  permit  this  to  be  done. 

Some  of  our  young  people  are  unfortunate  in  making  business  con- 
nection because  of  too  much  faith  in  themselves.  We  have  before  us 
the  case  of  a  young  man  who  was  compelled  at  the  last  moment  to 
seek  work  instead  of  taking  a  graduate  course  at  college.  Through  the 
efforts  of  the  committee  a  position  was  secured  in  a  promising  line  for 
him.  After  his  first  week,  because  of  some  harsh  criticism,  he  left 
his  work.  His  case  is  typical  of  an  increasing  class.  This  young 
man  may  have  had  too  much  of  teaching  and  too  little  learning  in  his 
school  life.  He  had  a  ready  mind,  had  acquired  a  great  deal  of  knowl- 
edge, but  he  had  never  learned  to  take  pleasure  in  solving  difficulties 
for  himself.  He  is  learning  that  lesson,  but  he  is  paying  heavily  for 
the  tuition. 
The  undue  prominence  which  has  been  given  to  interest  as  an  ele- 

I  ment  in  education,  the  disposition  to  expect  more  of  the  teachers  and 
less  and  less  of  effort  on  the  part  of  the  student  is  perhaps  responsible 

I  for  the  young  people  who  have  never  acquired  capacity  for  doing  what 
they  have  not  been  taught.  At  best  they  can  only  expect  to  take  and 

|  to  retain  positions  as  hired  servants  of  some  kind  or  other. 

Many  teachers  have  a  feeling  that  the  inspector  judges  them  chiefly 

j  because  of  their  power  to  direct  and  control  the  attention  of  the  chil- 
dren ;  that  he  holds  it  is  the  teacher's  business  to  supply  the  right 
outward  stimuli  and  to  ward  off  unfavorable  distractions.  Sometimes 
the  boy  gets  the  feeling  that  the  teacher  is  responsible  for  his  conduct ; 
from  this  condition  it  is  easy  for  him  to  develop  into  the  attitude  which 


I94  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

leads  him  "to  do  things  because  he  wants  to  and  the  teacher  can't 
touch  him."  The  teachers,  one  after  another,  are  wearied  into 
passing  the  boy  along  until  he  has  become  indifferent  to  all  the  novelties 
which  the  best  strategist  of  the  school  can  invent.  I  remember  one 
such  boy.  We  stated  his  case  fairly  to  an  employer  who  afterwards 
agreed  to  give  him  a  trial.  After  a  few  weeks  in  his  position  he  was 
tempted  to  play  a  trick  on  a  stupid  associate.  It  was  the  kind  of  a 
trick  which,  in  school,  would  have  secured  the  boy  a  holiday  until  his 
mother  or  his  father  could  have  made  arrangements  to  take  a  day  ofi 
to  see  the  principal,  taken  an  hour  or  two  of  the  valuable  time  of  that 
official,  made  it  necessary  for  the  teacher  and  the  clerk  of  the  principa 
to  make  various  and  sundry  entries  in  a  conduct  book  and  generall) 
punished  every  one  but  the  offender  himself.  In  the  business  hous 
it  needed  only  twenty  minutes  to  help  the  offender  on  with  his  over- 
coat, to  give  him  his  pay  envelope  and  plant  him  on  the  sidewalk 
The  boy  was  unemployable  and  will  likely  remain  unemployable  as 
his  recent  history  has  seemed  to  indicate.  That  power  of  self-control 
which  is  so  necessary  to  those  who  would  get  along  with  their  fellows 
had  never  been  developed  in  the  boy.  It  might  possibly  have  been 
developed  by  a  well-graded  course  of  treatment  for  nervous  disorders, 
according  to  the  prescriptions  of  the  wise  King  Solomon. 

An  employer  who  uses  a  large  number  of  girls  in  a  factory  in  which 
the  girls  are  expected  to  attend  to  certain  machines  stated  in  a  public 
conference  recently  that  not  over  10  per  cent  of  the  girls  who  apply  to 
him  are  employable  at  this  work  because  of  their  inability  to  keep  their 
eyes  from  wandering  away  from  their  work.  It  may  be  well  to  en- 
courage the  activities  of  the  small  child,  to  give  its  natural  inclinations 
free  play,  but  if  young  people  are  to  be  trained  for  usefulness  in  highly 
organized  industries,  they  must  be  trained  so  that  they  may  have  the 
power  of  self-control  and  the  ability  to  restrain  themselves  and  the 
readiness  to  forego  their  inclinations  and  desires. 

That  he  may  be  trained  to  useful  service  it  would  seem  that  as  he 
advances  from  the  kindergarten  to  the  finishing  school  the  child  should 
find  in  his  successive  teachers  less  and  less  of  the  entertainer  and  more 
and  more  of  the  taskmaster.  His  high  school  teacher  ought  to  have 
the  highest  standards  of  excellence  and  to  regard  with  intolerance  the 
lazy  attitude  of  the  adolescent  boy.  Of  course,  much  harm  may  be 
done  if  a  boy  is  to  be  punished  for  infirmities  which  are  due  to  the 
physical  condition  of  the  adolescent. 

I  have  in  mind  a  case  of  this  kind.  I  met  the  boy  on  the  street  in  a 
gang  of  toughs  after  he  had  been  dismissed  from  school  in  which  he 
had  in  five  terms  succeeded  in  doing  the  work  of  only  two  terms.  He 
was  a  fairly  good  grammar  school  boy,  he  entered  the  high  school  with 
good  intentions,  he  succeeded  fairly  well  in  the  first  term.  In  his 


VOCATIONAL  DIRECTION  195 

second  term  the  little  boy  suddenly  outgrew  his  knickerbockers  and 
became  an  uncouth,  awkward  fellow  nearly  six  feet  tall.  He  couldn't 
move  without  getting  into  some  one's  way.  He  was  abused  and 
ridiculed  until  he  lost  faith  in  himself  and  ceased  making  any  effort 
whatsoever  either  in  the  way  of  work  or  of  right  conduct.  Possibly 
provisions  should  have  been  made  for  putting  him  away  where  he 
could  have  done  no  harm  until  his  nervous  and  muscular  systems 
could  have  properly  coordinated. 

We  took  him  off  the  street,  got  him  into  the  hands  of  an  employer 
in  a  factory  where  he  was  useful  in  carrying  about  trays  of  bolts  from 
one  department  to  another.  Regular  physical  occupation,  good  sur- 
roundings, and  some  oversight  by  his  evening  school  teacher  saved  the 
boy,  and  the  boy  who  did  only  two  terms'  work  in  five  terms  in  the 
day  school  completed  his  preparation  for  the  technical  school  in  three 
short  terms  of  the  evening  school.  He  will  be  graduated  as  a  mechan- 
ical engineer  this  season  from  one  of  our  best  schools  and  expects  to 
reenter  the  services  of  the  firm  by  whom  he  was  first  employed. 

It  should  be  emphasized,  therefore,  that  it  is  a  serious  thing  for  the 
school,  if,  by  setting  too  high  a  standard,  it  leads  a  boy  to  believe  that 
he  is  not  of  the  average  capacity.  If  the  high  school  work  is  well 
done,  if  the  boy  studies  with  care  either  biology  or  history  or  mathe- 
matics, so  that  he  has  in  any  sense  a  comprehensive  grasp  of  either  one 
of  these  subjects,  it  must  follow  that  he  will  have  a  sense  of  his  own  in- 
significance which  is  wholly  unknown  to  the  young  man  who  knows 
everything  within  the  limits  of  one  city  block  and  knows  nothing  else. 
From  its  very  nature,  earnest  and  sound  work  in  school  and  college 
tends  to  promote  humility,  while  the  man  who  masters  only  a  limited 
field  of  endeavor,  as  does  the  man  in  the  shop  or  the  office,  acquires  in 
his  own  element  a  very  great  deal  of  confidence.  This  explains  per- 
haps in  a  measure,  why  the  young  high  school  and  the  college  graduate 
appear  to  such  disadvantage  when  they  first  go  out  to  work  side  by 
side  with  those  of  their  same  age  with  a  foundation  of  experience  in 
their  common  work.  If  the  school  knows  to  what  work  the  student 
goes,  it  can,  by  a  little  advice,  help  him  meet  these  first  disadvantages 
which  are  inherent  to  the  situation.  The  school  should  do  this. 

The  high  schools  should  endeavor  to  enlist  a  large  number  of  the 
students  in  those  activities  which  are  planned  to  develop  in  the  stu- 
dent the  power  of  initiative.  It  must  be  unfortunate  if  students  have 
been  under  direction  throughout  their  entire  school  course.  It  may 
be  the  case  that  the  assigned  work  employs  their  energies  so  completely 
that  they  lose  all  desire  to  learn  anything  which  they  are  not  directed 
or  required  to  do  by  some  one  in  authority. 

A  girl  who  had  been  graduated  from  one  of  our  high  schools  and  had 
afterwards  taken  a  course  in  stenography  in  a  business  school  was  sent 


196  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

by  the  employment  committee  of  her  own  school  to  the  chairman  of 
the  general  committee.  Her  family  had  made  sacrifices  in  order  to 
secure  for  the  girl  the  training  which  should  make  her  independent. 
She  had  been  attracted  to  stenography  by  the  glowing  terms  in  which 
a  girl  friend  had  painted  this  work.  As  she  had  been  out  of  school 
for  some  time  and  was  out  of  practice  she  was  employed  by  the  general 
committee  until  a  suitable  opening  presented  itself.  After  a  week, 
an  opening  did  present  itself,  and  on  the  recommendations  of  the 
committee  she  was  taken  on  trial  and  she  held  the  position  just  one 
day.  She  was  in  despair  over  the  failure.  She  had  been  well  taught, 
she  had  good  judgment  in  the  use  of  words  and  was  able  to  take  notes 
and  to  transcribe  correctly.  She  had  no  special  interest  in  learning 
an  unfamiliar  typewriting  machine  at  which  she  was  set  to  work  by 
the  committee,  she  was  satisfied  to  ask  her  employer  to  make  the 
adjustments  of  the  machine  for  her,  she  had  not  learned  to  keep  her 
papers  in  order,  or  that  the  work  must  be  done  in  a  specified  time. 
She  expected  her  employer  to  be  the  successor  of  the  indulgent  teach- 
ers who  had  always  been  ready  to  wait  upon  her,  and  to  put  her  things 
in  order  for  her  after  the  day's  work  was  over.  She  may  learn  these 
lessons,  but  I  fear  that  she  also  will  pay  heavily  for  the  tuition. 

If  the  pupils  of  our  high  schools  are  to  be  trained  to  go  out  for  serv- 
ice, they  must  be  taught  to  take  some  interest  in  their  own  surround- 
ings, and  ought  to  be  made  responsible  for  the  things  which  they  use 
and  handle  in  school.  In  another  state  they  are  wrestling  with  an 
unfeeling  member  of  the  school  board  who  cannot  be  made  to  see  why 
the  taxpayers  should  pay  the  laundry  bills  for  the  domestic  science 
classes  of  the  high  schools.  In  our  city,  the  students  learn  that 
high-salaried  teachers  must  be  ready  to  hand  out  to  them  paper  and 
pencil  and  pen  whenever  they  have  need  for  the  same.  They  learn 
to  be  waited  on,  and  for  the  time  it  may  be  well  enough,  but  it  makes 
it  so  hard  when  they  fall  into  the  hands  of  an  employer  who  does  not 
readily  learn,  new  ways  of  doing  things. 

Just  one  more  criticism.  In  one  of  the  large  evening  schools,  on  a 
given  evening  a  notice  was  sent  to  all  the  rooms  requesting  that  those 
who  were  seeking  employment  should  be  sent  to  a  room  for  a  conference 
with  a  member  of  the  committee.  It  was  particularly  specified  that 
this  conference  would  be  at  7.30  o'clock.  This  was  the  time  for  the 
opening  of  the  session,  and  it  was  assumed  that  the  boy  who  was  out 
of  employment  and  who  failed  to  be  promptly  on  hand  at  the  opening 
of  the  session  was  not  a  boy  whom  the  committee  cared  to  recommend. 
At  the  time  specified  eighteen  candidates  out  of  an  attendance  of  over 
eight  hundred  appeared.  After  a  very  brief  talk,  the  representative 
of  the  committee  observed  that  two  of  the  candidates  were  likely  to 
prove  acceptable  to  employers  from  whom  calls  had  been  received. 


VOCATIONAL  DIRECTION  197 

i  Letters  of  introduction  were  given  to  these  two,  and  the  next  day  they 

I  both  reported  engagements.  By  way  of  a  test,  the  others  were  in- 
structed  to  prepare  a  letter  of  application.  They  were  directed  to 
state  in  a  separate  letter  to  the  representative  of  the  committee  what 
they  would  like  to  do  and  to  make  their  letter  of  application  to  the 
employers  a  clear  statement  of  the  reasons  why  they  should  be  engaged 
for  the  desired  position.  They  were  told  that  the  committee  would 
forward  these  letters  to  employers  in  the  chosen  lines  of  business. 
They  were  also  instructed  to  have  these  letters  ready  the  following 
evening  at  7.15.  Let  it  be  remembered  that  this  crowd  of  sixteen 

I  represented  a  very  small  remnant  and  the  poorest  remnant  of  all  the 
great  army  from  which  it  was  sifted  by  the  merciless  operation  of  the 
laws  of  selection.  Why  were  they  eliminated? 

The  next  evening  at  the  appointed  time  not  one  had  appeared. 
The  first  one,  when  questioned,  remarked  that  he  "  didn't  think  it 
mattered."  It  was  particularly  specified  that  they  were  to  write 
letters  on  unruled  papers  because  it  was  supposed  that  it  would  be 

I  necessary  for  them  to  specially  purchase  this  paper  for  this  purpose. 
Not  one  had  that  kind  of  paper.  Some  had  foolscap  ;  most  of  them 
had  little  sheets  of  cheap  letter  paper,  because  they  thought  it  "  would 
do  just  as  well."  The  writing  was  fairly  good,  but  the  matter  of  the 
letters  was  very  indifferently  expressed,  and  either  the  ability  or  the 
disposition  to  carry  out  instructions  was  absent. 

On  several  occasions,  through  the  courtesy  of  advertisers,  I  have 
been  permitted  to  have  the  letters  of  rejected  applicants  for  positions, 
and  I  am  of  the  opinion  that  such  letters  are  written  largely  by  the 
element  which  was  represented  in  this  evening  school  residuum  of 
sixteen.  As  young  people,  such  persons  are  unemployable. 

A  discussion  of  this  problem  with  many  employers  leads  us  to  the 
belief  that  the  kind  of  vocational  training  which  the  best  of  employers 
of  this  city  would  appreciate  and  the  kind  of  vocational  training  which 
will  be  the  best  insurance  against  unemployment  does  not  depend  upon 
the  content  of  the  course  of  study.  It  is  the  vocational  training  which 
will  give  the  student  the  capacity  to  understand  instructions,  the 
ability  to  interpret  them,  and  the  disposition  to  obey  orders  even 
though  he  does  not  at  the  time  understand  the  reasons  for  doing  what 
is  required  of  him. 

Let  me  not  be  misunderstood.  I  am  dwelling  upon  these  inefficient 
students  for  the  purpose  of  calling  attention  to  some  things  which  might 
be  remedied.  These  cases  are  the  more  noticeable  because  so  few  stu- 
dents whose  progress  has  been  followed  by  the  members  of  the  commit- 
tee have  failed  to  meet  the  expectations  of  their  employers.  By  way  of 
contrast  with  these  bits  of  biography  which  I  have  given,  let  me  quote 
from  a  letter  which  has  been  received  by  a  member  of  the  committee : — 


198  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

"  Perhaps  you  have  forgotten  me.  When  I  graduated  from  the 
high  school,  I  came  to  you  with  a  long  tale  of  woe  because  I  could  not 
afford  to  go  to  college  in  order  to  fit  myself  to  become  an  engineer. 
You  kindly  planned  a  course  for  me  and  secured  for  me  a  position. 
I  have  been  advanced  from  time  to  time  by  my  employer.  I  am  now 
twenty-one  years  old,  and  by  the  time  the  next  college  year  begins,  I 
shall  have  to  my  credit  in  the  savings  bank  $1200.  Some  time  ago 
I  told  my  boss  of  my  plans,  and  I  offered  to  get  him  a  high  school  boy 
to  break  in  to  do  my  work  before  I  should  leave. 

"  A  few  days  after  wards  he  called  me  into  his  office  and  asked  me 
fully  about  my  plans.  He  then  offered  to  put  me  in  charge  of  a  new 
department  which  the  firm  is  organizing,  if  I  should  agree  to  remain 
with  them.  The  firm  is  rapidly  expanding  its  business,  is  connected 
with  some  of  the  leading  financial  institutions  and  contracting  firms 
of  the  city. 

"  Now  the  question  is,  shall  I  give  up  my  long-cherished  plan  to  go 
to  college  ?  I  have  argued  myself  to  a  standstill  on  the  subject,  and  I 
must  depend  upon  you  for  advice.  For  any  consideration  which  you 
can  give  the  question  and  any  time  you  can  spare  me  at  your  con- 
venience, let  me  thank  you  in  advance,  and  let  me  again  express  my 
gratitude  for  your  kindness  and  help  in  the  past." 

In  a  leading  editorial  in  the  Brooklyn  Eagle  under  date  of  June  2, 
1908,  in  referring  to  the  work  of  the  committee,  the  writer  ended  with 
this  remark,  "  Some  of  the  finest  results  of  teaching  come  not  from  the 
routine  of  the  classroom,  but  from  the  incidental  association  of  pupils 
with  men  and  women  of  character  and  helpfulness."  The  letter  files  of 
the  committee  are  an  indication  of  the  confidential  relations  which 
exist  between  the  pupils  and  their  high  school  teachers. 

Departmental  teaching,  the  semiannual  reorganization  of  the 
schools  and  the  unusual  size  of  our  high  schools  tend  to  prevent  the 
development  of  these  confidential  relations  between  pupils  and  teacher, 
unless  special  attention  is  given  to  the  matter. 

This  interest  in  the  student  should  not  cease  after  his  graduation. 
The  successful  student  makes  an  appreciated  school,  and  where  the 
school  is  appreciated  by  the  patrons,  the  work  of  the  teacher  becomes 
easier,  and  the  influence  of  the  school  over  the  student  becomes  stronger. 

As  the  ratio  of  the  young  people  to  the  entire  population  of  a  city 
becomes  less  and  less,  it  becomes  more  and  more  important  that  every 
cause  which  hinders  the  proper  development  of  the  young  people 
should  be  removed.  If  the  young  people  who  go  out  from  our  schools 
and  colleges  of  the  smaller  city  of  this  day  are  not  ready  when  their 
time  comes  in  the  much  larger  city  of  the  future  to  manage  the  great 
enterprises,  the  alien  must  come  in  and  do  it  for  them. 

The  young  people  must  be  well  equipped,  and  they  must  be  started 


VOCATIONAL  DIRECTION  199 

in  the  right  direction,  but  the  large  concerns  in  which  they  are  em- 
ployed should  be  so  organized  as  to  give  to  their  workers  reasonable 
encouragement  to  continue  their  own  development  after  they  enter 
upon  their  employment. 

In  order  to  insure  continuity  of  employment  and  to  be  enabled  to 
direct  the  subsequent  development  of  these  young  people  who  were 
sent  to  their  first  employers,  the  committee  has  encouraged  them  to 
make  periodical  reports  of  their  progress  and  to  call  upon  the  members 
for  consultation,  and  it  has  been  particularly  emphasized  that  no  stu- 
dent for  whom  the  committee  stood  sponsor  should  of  his  own  accord 
leave  an  employer  without  first  consulting  with  the  representative  of 
his  school. 

After  making  all  due  allowance,  the  committee  has  learned  enough 
from  these  reports  of  the  young  workers  to  be  deeply  impressed  with 
the  necessity  for  a  change  in  the  methods  of  handling  new  recruits, 
which  even  at  this  advanced  day  prevail  in  some  business  estab- 
lishments. 

We  had  a  bright  boy  who  was  compelled  to  leave  school  because  of 
the  death  of  his  father.  In  the  course  of  the  routine  of  our  work  we 
mail  our  employment  circulars  to  firms  by  whom  boys  who  come  to  us 
seeking  work  have  been  discharged.  In  answer  to  one  of  these  circu- 
lars we  received  a  request  for  a  boy  for  a  firm  from  whose  services  an 
evening  school  student  had  been  discharged  a  few  days  before.  They 
desired  to  secure  a  well-bred,  intelligent  boy  to  begin  with  "  small 
salary  and  prospects  of  advancement."  A  representative  of  the 
committee  went  with  the  orphan  to  interview  the  manager.  It  was 
just  the  boy  for  whom  he  had  been  looking,  and  he  was  ready  to  engage 
him  at  once.  The  boy  was  expected  to  come  to  the  place  of  business 
early,  to  set  in  order  the  outer  office  and  to  act  as  a  sort  of  page  and 
doorkeeper.  After  talking  with  the  young  fellow  who  had  been  dis- 
charged by  the  firm,  it  was  discovered  that  he  had  been  doing  just 
that  work  for  about  two  years,  receiving  four  dollars  a  week  the  first 
year  and  five  dollars  the  second  year,  and  that  he  was  expecting  an 
increase  to  six  dollars.  Instead  of  advancing  him,  he  was  dismissed, 
and  the  firm  saved  two  dollars  a  week  by  employing  a  new  boy. 

The  business  biography  of  another  boy  who  went  out  of  the  lower 
grades  of  one  of  our  schools  four  years  ago  indicates  that  he  has  been 
specially  trained  by  the  firm  which  employs  him,  and  at  present  he 
is  taking  at  one  of  our  best  schools  a  course  of  lessons  in  Spanish.  The 
firm  pays  the  tuition  and  allows  him  the  time  to  attend  upon  instruc- 
tion. In  this  city,  the  special  training  which  is  required  in  different 
lines  of  business  is  so  varied  that  it  would  seem  to  be  impossible  for  the 
schools  to  arrange  to  give  all  the  training  and  instruction  which  may  be 
needed  to  fit  students  for  highly  specialized  service.  To  secure  this 


200  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

specialized  training,  the  student  must  sacrifice  so  much  time  and  energy, 
and  since  much  of  it  has  so  little  value  outside  of  one  particular  line,  and 
considering  that  the  business  interests  of  the  city  must  pay  for  this 
training  whether  given  in  the  school  before  the  boy  enters  upon  his 
employment  or  given  after  he  enters  the  service  of  a  given  firm,  it 
would  seem  far  more  economical  for  the  firms  who  seek  the  services  of 
specialists  to  encourage  their  own  employees  to  acquire  the  required 
skill.  Much  of  this  specialized  training  is  of  far  more  value  to  the  firm 
than  it  is  to  the  individual,  and  the  individual  should  not  be  expected 
to  serve  the  firm  at  a  loss  to  himself  while  he  is  getting  the  experience 
and  special  skill  which  is  needed  by  the  firm,  unless  that  special  skill 
has  some  value  to  the  individual  outside  of  his  work  in  connection 
with  that  particular  firm. 

The  worst  of  these  antiquated  methods  is  the  fact  that  this  unregu- 
lated apprentice  service  gives  opportunity  to  unprincipled  individuals 
to  speculate  upon  the  needs  of  the  most  helpless  part  of  the  com- 
munity. A  most  aggravated  case  of  this  kind  came  to  the  attention 
of  the  committee.  It  should  be  said  at  the  outset  that  such  cases  are 
not  numerous.  The  vocation  record  of  an  evening  school  student 
was  brought  to  the  attention  of  the  committee.  The  card  showed  that 
the  boy  had  graduated  from  an  elementary  school  at  the  age  of  four- 
teen ;  this  seemed  to  indicate  that  he  was  a  normal  boy.  He  had  been 
in  the  service  of  the  same  employer  during  the  two  years  since  gradua- 
tion ;  this  seemed  to  indicate  that  he  was  reliable  and  faithful.  He 
had  been  regular  and  punctual  in  his  attendance  upon  the  evening 
school  since  graduating  from  the  elementary  school,  even  though  he 
had  to  travel  considerable  distance  in  order  to  reach  the  evening 
school ;  this  seemed  to  indicate  that  he  had  ambition  and  tenacity  of 
purpose.  His  earnings  were  given  at  $3.50  per  week.  He  was  sent 
for,  and  a  quiet  talk  was  had  with  him  in  regard  to  his  prospects  and  the 
nature  of  his  employment.  The  boy's  father  was  dead,  his  mother 
was  a  working  woman,  and  the  boy's  employer  was  a  member  of  the 
church  of  which  both  the  boy  and  his  mother  were  members.  The 
boy  and  the  mother  were  under  the  impression  that  he  was  learning 
a  trade ;  on  the  contrary,  the  boy  was  employed  to  deliver  packages 
of  considerable  value  in  different  parts  of  the  city.  It  was  necessary 
to  hold  a  special  conference  with  the  boy's  mother  to  secure  her  con- 
sent to  permit  the  boy  to  accept  employment  at  another  place  at  seven 
dollars  a  week. 

It  is  usual  for  a  member  of  a  committee  to  call  upon  a  firm  when  the 
first  request  for  help  is  received  in  order  to  know  what  is  expected,  so 
that  selections  may  be  more  carefully  made.  The  manager  of  a  long- 
established  firm,  by  way  of  apology  for  the  low  wages  which  it  offered, 
said  that  the  boys  have  opportunity  to  earn  considerable  above  their 


VOCATIONAL  DIRECTION  201 

j  regular  weekly  pay.     A  good  young  fellow  was  sent  to  them.     In 
his  first  report  he  wrote :  "  I  am  only  receiving  $6  per  week.     The  other 
j  fellows  think  I  am  easy  because  I  do  not  fall  into  the  practice  of  delay- 
ing my  work  until  after  the  closing  hour  so  that  I  can  cash  in  my 
I  overtime  check  for  the  extra  fifty  cents  which  is  paid  to  those  who  are 
kept  beyond  the  usual  time."    This  system  surely  seemed  to  offer  a 
I  premium  to  delinquents,  and  it  did  not  really  add  to  the  earnings  of 
the  boys,  because  the  extra  fifty  cents  was  considered  as  so  much 
money  "  found  "  and  was  squandered  accordingly.     In  justice  to  the 
firm  it  may  be  added  that  when  the  young  man's  letter  was  forwarded 
to  the  manager,  he  promptly  promoted  the  writer  over  the  heads  of  his 
I  fellows  to  a  more  responsible  position  at  increased  pay. 

The  committee  has  issued  a  special  circular  setting  forth  some  of 
the  conditions  under  which  boys  are  accepted  by  responsible  firms  in 
order  to  learn  trades.     It  has  been  surprising  to  notice  how  few  boys 
cared  to  consider  these  opportunities.     This  may  be  due  to  the  expe- 
rience of  other  members  of  their  families.     In  most  of  the  trades  the 
j  boys  and  girls  are  made  to  be  parts  of  automatic  machines  so  long 
that  they  become  useless  to  themselves  and  the  community  and  their 
I  employers  whenever  a  change  on  the  methods  of  the  factory  puts  the 
particular  machine  at  which  they  are  working  out  of  business.     A  boy 
of  twenty  who  had  found  himself  a  part  of  such  an  organization  was 
struggling  to  emancipate  himself.     After  several  conferences  with 
I  him,  his  evening  school  teacher  reported  what  seemed  to  be  the  condi- 
j  tions  of  this  factory.     It  was  a  fountain  pen  factory.     All  the  parts 
were  made  by  specially  constructed  and  automatic  machinery.     A 
worker's  highest  efficiency  was  secured  by  keeping  him  at  one  of  these 
I  machines.      Boys  and  girls  were  found  to  be  taught  readily  and  to 
j  become,  in  a  little  time,  very  efficient,  but  the  work  was  deadening, 
and  it  destroyed  the  worker  himself.     After  he  had  grown  up,  he  lost 
!  some  of  his  muscular  activity,  became  restless  because  of  the  low  wages 
!  which  prevailed  in  the  shop,  was  discharged,  and  other  boys  were  hired 
;  to  take  his  place. 

Even  if  a  boy  should  develop  a  higher  skill  than  that  which  is 
|  demanded  by  the  particular  work  which  he  is  engaged  to  do,  it  is 
i  difficult  in  many  highly  organized  concerns  for  him  to  make  his  new 
i  acquisitions  known  to  his  responsible  superiors.  These  superiors  are 
I  not  so  much  to  blame  in  many  cases  as  the  system  under  which  the 
j  work  is  carried  on.  A  young  man  who  graduated  from  one  of  our  high 
|  schools  four  years  ago  was  employed  in  a  large  factory.  After  he  had 
I  been  at  work  for  some  time  with  the  firm,  in  a  conference  with  his 
|  adviser,  he  expressed  an  ambition  to  get  into  the  firm's  laboratory. 
!  He  was  directed  to  enter  Cooper  Institute  for  the  evening  course  in 
:  chemistry  and  to  specialize  in  the  work  which  was  most  likely  to  be 


202  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

required  by  his  firm.  He  took  the  advice,  plodded  on  year  after  year 
in  his  self-imposed  task,  and  completed  his  education  in  that  line,  but 
he  could  not  get  his  firm  to  recognize  nor  to  consider  his  request  to  be 
transferred  to  the  department  for  which  he  had  prepared  himself. 
It  was  only  after  he  had  secured  a  position  with  another  firm  through 
the  efforts  of  the  committee  that  his  former  employers  made  him  an 
offer  to  advance  him  to  the  laboratory. 

It  would  be  wrong  to  leave  the  impression  that  other  methods  do  not 
prevail.  The  best  firms  employ  especially  trained  men  and  women  to 
look  after  the  welfare  of  their  employees ;  many  of  them  have  in  oper- 
ation systems  which  are  designed  to  develop  the  efficiency  of  their 
employees  and  to  bring  to  the  front  those  who  show  unusual  degrees  of 
efficiency.  Others  offer  cash  premiums  and  valuable  prizes  to  the 
employees  who  show  special  skill  or  who  devise  improvements  in  the 
methods  of  doing  business. 

But  enough  has  been  said.  The  employers  of  labor  have  done 
much  to  make  this  great  city  what  it  is.  They  need  our  young  people. 
There  are  those  who  deserve^the  best  we  can  give  them.  Courses  of 
study,  fixed  programs  and  graduation  from  the  high  school  are  im- 
portant, but  the  real  important  aim  is  to  keep  the  boy  in  school  until 
he  is  fit  for  something  and  then  to  have  him  ready,  when  the  demand 
comes  for  him,  to  hand  over  to  the  employer  for  whose  services  by 
nature  and  training  he  is  best  fitted  and  whose  service  is  designed  to 
develop  the  employee  as  well  as  to  profit  the  employer. 

This  work  has  passed  the  experimental  stage,  and  the  committee 
has  recommended  (i)  that  the  vocational  officers  of  the  large  high 
schools  should  be  given  at  least  one  extra  period  of  unassigned  time  to 
attend  to  this  work  and  that  they  should  be  relieved  from  all  special 
assignments  in  consideration  of  the  time  out  of  school  which  this  work 
is  likely  to  require,  (2)  that  they  should  be  provided  with  facilities  for 
keeping  the  records  of  the  students  who  go  out  from  their  schools  and 
the  records  of  the  requirements  of  the  employers  who  may  call  upon 
them  from  time  to  time  for  assistance  in  selecting  recruits  for  their 
service,  (3)  and  that  they  should  be  furnished  opportunities  for  hold- 
ing conferences  with  students  and  employers. 

Through  these  vocational  advisers  the  schools  may  be  able  to  help 
the  comparatively  small  number  who  need  help  of  this  kind.  For  the 
larger  number  it  is  not  so  much  that  they  need  help  in  securing  em- 
ployment as  that  they  need  advice  in  wisely  selecting  their  work  and 
oversight  in  working  out  their  vocational  aims.  That  this  advice 
may  be  given  wisely,  a  knowledge  of  the  constantly  changing  wants 
of  the  city  must  be  made  available  to  teachers.  To  secure  this 
knowledge  and  to  make  it  available  to  teachers  and  students,  there 
should  be  a  properly  organized  vocational  directory  for  the  community. 


VOCATIONAL  DIRECTION  203 

The  functions  of  the  director  should  be  to  enlist  the  cooperation  of  the 
business  men  to  study  the  requirements  of  employers  and  to  establish 
friendly  relations  between  groups  of  employers  and  those  schools 
which,  because  of  the  character  of  their  students,  their  location  or 
their  facilities  for  instruction,  are  best  designed  to  meet  the  wants  of 
these  employers.  He  would  also  be  in  a  position  to  recommend  such 
modifications  of  the  work  of  the  schools  as  to  enable  them  best  to 
meet  the  wants  of  the  employers  with  whom  they  are  in  touch. 

Such  a  vocational  director  should  collect  and  make  available  for 
the  teachers,  and  for  the  students  of  the  several  schools  through  pub- 
lications and  lectures,  information  which  should  deal  with  the  require- 
ments for  success  in  the  learned  professions,  the  skilled  trades  and  the 
commercial  pursuits,  the  readiest  means  through  which  these  require- 
ments can  be  met  by  the  young  people,  and  the  return  which  properly 
qualified  young  people  may  expect  after  they  enter  the  several  voca- 
tions.    By  anticipating  industrial  and  commercial  changes  through 
I  such  an  agency  it  would  be  possible  to  prevent  the  overcrowding  in 
I  some  lines  of  work  and  to  provide  for  the  needs  of  new  activities.     The 
I  vocational  director  of  the  community  would  be  doing  for  its  young 
I  people,  in  order  to  help  them  realize  their  highest  possibilities,  what  the 
government  is  now  doing  for  the  industrial  and  agricultural  classes. 

Such  a  plan,  to  be  successful  in  the  highest  degree,  must  enlist  all 
classes  of  employers,  and  serve  impartially  all  efficient  educational 
agencies  of  the  city.     In  order  to  enable  him  to  be  the  real  exponent 
of  the  business  community,  to  be  free  to  refuse  to  help  inefficient  stu- 
dents and  to  aid  unfair  employers,  the  general  vocational  director 
should  perhaps  be  supported  independently  of  the  school  authorities. 
Maintenance  of  such  a  general  vocational  agency  would  require 
but  a  fraction  of  the  amount  which  would  be  needed  to  endow  a 
college.     Because  it  would  provide  a  means  of  stimulating  the  intel- 
lectual enterprises  of  the  city,  provide  an  agency  for  promoting  greater 
industrial  efficiency,  become  an  active  force  for  insuring  the  welfare 
of  large  masses,  the  organization  and  development  of  a  pioneer  enter- 
prise of  this  kind  must  surely  appeal  to  generously  minded  people  of 
this  city  who  have  been  so  ready  in  the  past  to  give  vast  fortunes  for  the 
establishment  of  training  schools  in  this  and  in  other  lands,  and  other 
I  fortunes  for  the  amelioration  of  the  conditions  of  the  defective,  the  de- 
|  pendent  and  the  delinquent  classes.   It  is  an  appeal  to  them  to  establish 
j  proper  guide  posts  which  will  enable  poor  but  deserving  young  people  of 
i  this  city  who  have  struggled  to  fit  themselves  for  usefulness  and  whose 
j  parents  meanwhile  have  made  sacrifices  to  find  their  way  to  success  with- 
out loss  of  time  or  waste  of  energy  in  the  very  complex  life  of  this  city. 

I  Report  of  the  Work  of  the  Students'  Aid  Committee  of  the  High  School  Teachers' 

Association  of  New  York  City,  by  E.  W.  Weaver.     1909. 


204  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

PROBLEMS  FOR  STUDY  AND  DISCUSSION 

1.  Study    carefully    for    critical    discussion    the    self-examination 
questions  prepared  by  the  Boston  Vocation  Bureau.     Parsons,  Choos- 
ing a  Vocation. 

2.  What  influences  tend  to  make  a  youth  postpone   unduly  the 
choice  of  his  life  work?    What  remedies  can  you  suggest  for  this 
condition  ? 

3.  What  can  be  said  for  or  against  the  early  realization  of  a  life- 
career  motive  ? 

4.  Outline  carefully  the  social  importance  and  social  need  for  voca- 
tional guidance.     Bloomfield,  1-23;    109-116. 

5.  Describe  the  different  types  of  vocational  guidance  attempted 
both  in  this  country  and  abroad.      (Bloomfield,  Publications  of  the 
"Students'  Aid  Committee"  of  New  York  City,  etc.) 

6.  Vocational  guidance  as  an  aspect  of  public  education. 

7.  The  training  and  duties  of  the  vocational  counselor. 

8.  What  are  some  of  the  dangers  attending  the  work  of  vocational 
guidance  ? 

REFERENCES  ON  VOCATIONAL  GUIDANCE 

BLOOMFIELD,  MEYER.  The  Vocational  Guidance  of  Youth,  Riverside 
Educational  Monograph.  Boston,  1911.  Classified  bibliography. 

BROOKS,  STRATTON  D.     "Vocational  Guidance,"  S.  Rev.,  19:42. 

GORDON,  MRS.  OGILVIE.  Handbook  of  Employments.  Aberdeen,  Scot- 
land. 

HANUS,  PAUL  H.  "Vocational  Guidance  and  Public  Education,  S. 
Rev.,  19 :  57. 

KEELING,  FREDERICK.  The  Labor  Exchange  in  Relation  to  Boy  and 
Girl  Labor.  London. 

LEAVITT,  F.  M.  "  The  Boston  Conferences  on  Industrial  Education 
and  Vocational  Guidance,"  S.  Rev.,  19 :  63. 

LESLIE,  F.  J.     Wasted  Lives.    Liverpool,  1910. 

MUNSTERBERG,  HUGO.  "The  choice  of  a  vocation,"  in  American 
Problems.  New  York,  1910. 

PARSONS,  FRANK.  Choosing  a  Vocation.  Boston,  1909.  The  best 
account  of  the  practical  work  of  the  vocational  counselor,  ex- 
amination questions,  sample  interviews,  etc. 

Students'  Aid  Committee  of  the  High  School  Teachers'  Association  of 
New  York  City.  E.  W.  Weaver,  Chairman.  This  committee 

• 


VOCATIONAL  DIRECTION  205 

publishes  a  number  of  bulletins  containing  practical  suggestions 
on  choosing  a  vocation,  e.g.  "Choosing  a  Career,  a  circular  of  in- 
formation for  boys,"  etc. 

Womens'  Educational  and  Industrial  Union.     Vocations  for  the  Trained 
Woman,  other  than  Teaching.    Boston,  1910. 

"Vocational  guidance,  a  conference  on,"  Outlook,  Vol.  96,  659.    Edi- 
torial, December  10. 

Vocations,  a  library  of  practical  information  for  young  men  and 
women.    10  vols.   President  William  DeW.  Hyde,  Editor-in-chief. 


CHAPTER  XI 

EDUCATION   AS  A   FACTOR   IN   SOCIAL   PROGRESS 

The  School  and  Social  Progress 

WE  are  apt  to  look  at  the  school  from  an  individualistic  stand- 
point, as  something  between  teacher  and  pupil,  or  between  teache 
and  parent.  That  which  interests  us  most  is  naturally  the  progre 
made  by  the  individual  child  of  our  acquaintance,  his  normal  physi- 
cal development,  his  advance  in  ability  to  read,  write  and  figure,  his 
growth  in  the  knowledge  of  geography  and  history,  improvement  in 
manners,  habits  of  promptness,  order  and  industry,  —  it  is  from  such 
standards  as  these  that  we  judge  the  work  of  the  school .  And  rightly 
so.  Yet  the  range  of  the  outlook  needs  to  be  enlarged.  What  the 
best  and  wisest  parent  wants  for  his  own  child,  that  must  the  commu- 
nity want  for  all  its  children.  Any  other  ideal  for  our  schools  is  nar- 
row and  unlovely ;  acted  upon,  it  destroys  our  democracy.  All  that 
society  has  accomplished  for  itself  is  put,  through  the  agency  of  the 
school,  at  the  disposal  of  its  future  members.  All  its  better  thoughts 
of  itself  it  hopes  to  realize  through  the  new  possibilities  thus  opened 
to  its  future  self.  Here  individualism  and  socialism  are  at  one.  Only 
by  being  true  to  the  full  growth  of  all  the  individuals  who  make  it  up, 
can  society  by  any  chance  be  true  to  itself.  And  in  the  self-direction 
thus  given,  nothing  counts  as  much  as  the  school,  for,  as  Horace  Mann 
said,  "  Where  anything  is  growing,  one  former  is  worth  a  thousand 
re-formers/' 

Whenever  we  have  in  mind  the  discussion  of  a  new  movement  in 
education,  it  is  especially  necessary  to  take  the  broader,  or  social, 
view.  Otherwise,  changes  in  the  school  institution  and  tradition 
will  be  looked  at  as  the  arbitrary  inventions  of  particular  teachers ; 
at  the  worst  transitory  fads,  and  at  the  best  merely  improvements 
in  certain  details  —  and  this  is  the  plane  upon  which  it  is  too  custom- 
ary to  consider  school  changes.  It  is  as  rational  to  conceive  of  the 
locomotive  or  the  telegraph  as  personal  devices.  The  modification 
going  on  in  the  method  and  curriculum  of  education  is  as  much  a 


EDUCATION  AS  A  FACTOR  IN  SOCIAL  PROGRESS     207 

product  of  the  changed  social  situation,  and  as  much  an  effort  to 
meet  the  needs  of  the  new  society  that  is  forming,  as  are  changes 
in  modes  of  industry  and  commerce. 

It  is  to  this,  then,  that  I  especially  ask  your  attention :  the  effort 
to  conceive  what  roughly  may  be  termed  the  "  New  Education  " 
in  the  light  of  larger  changes  in  society.  Can  we  connect  this  "  New 
Education  "  with  the  general  march  of  events?  If  we  can,  it  will 
lose  its  isolated  character,  and  will  cease  to  be  an  affair  which  pro- 
ceeds only  from  the  overingenious  minds  of  pedagogues  dealing 
with  particular  pupils.  It  will  appear  as  part  and  parcel  of  the  whole 
social  evolution,  and,  in  its  more  general  features  at  least,  as  inevi- 
table. Let  us  then  ask  after  the  main  aspexta^aLJJie  social  move- 
ment; and  afterwards  turn  to  the  school  to  find  what  witness  it 
gives  of  effort  to  put  itself  in  line.  And  since  it  is  quite  impossible 
to  cover  the  whole  ground,  I  shall  for  the  most  part  confine  myself 
to  one  typical  thing  in  the  modern  school  movement  —  that  which 
passes  under  the  name  of  manual  training,  hoping,  if  the  relation  of 
that  to  changed  social  conditions  appears  we  shall  be  ready  to  con- 
cede the  point  as  well  regarding  other  educational  innovations. 

I  make  no  apology  for  not  dwelling  at  length  upon  the  social  changes 
in  question.  Those  I  shall  mention  are  writ  so  large  that  he  who 
runs  may  read.  The  change  that  comes  first  to  mind  and  the  one 
that  overshadows  and  even  controls  all  others,  is  the  industrial  one  — 
the  application  of  science  resulting  in  the  great  inventions  that  have 
utilized  the  forces  of  nature  on  a  vast  and  inexpensive  scale :  the 
growth  of  a  world-wide  market  as  the  object  of  production,  of  vast 
manufacturing  centers  to  supply  this  market,  of  cheap  and  rapid 
means  of  communication  and  distribution  between  all  its  parts. 
Even  as  to  its  feebler  beginnings,  this  change  is  not  much  more  than 
a  century  old ;  in  many  of  its  most  important  aspects  it  falls  within 
the  short  span  of  those  now  living.  One  can  hardly  believe  there 
has  been  a  revolution  in  all  history  so  rapid,  so  extensive,  so  com- 
plete. Through  it  the  face  of  the  earth  is  making  over,  even  as  to 
its  physical  forms;  political  boundaries  are  wiped  out  and  moved 
about,  as  if  they  were  indeed  only  lines  on  a  paper  map ;  population 
is  hurriedly  gathered  into  cities  from  the  ends  of  the  earth ;  habits 
of  living  are  altered  with  startling  abruptness  and  thoroughness; 
the  search  for  the  truths  of  nature  is  infinitely  stimulated  and  facili- 
tated and  their  application  to  life  made  not  only  practicable,  but 
commercially  necessary.  Even  our  moral  and  religious  ideas  and 
interests,  the  most  conservative  because  the  deepest-lying  things  in 
our  nature,  are  profoundly  affected.  That  this  revolution  should 
not  affect  education  in  other  than  formal  and  superficial  fashion  is 
inconceivable. 


208  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

Back  of  the  factory  system  lies  the  household  and  neighborhood 
system.  Those  of  us  who  are  here  to-day  need  go  back  only  one, 
two,  or  at  the  most  three,  generations,  to  find  a  time  when  the  household 
was  practically  the  center  in  which  were  carried  on,  or  about  which 
were  clustered,  all  the  typical  forms  of  industrial  occupation.  The 
clothing  worn  was  for  the  most  part  not  only  made  in  the  house, 
but  the  members  of  the  household  were  usually  familiar  with  the 
shearing  of  the  sheep,  the  carding  and  spinning  of  the  wool,  and  the 
plying  of  the  loom.  Instead  of  pressing  a  button  and  flooding  the 
house  with  electric  light,  the  whole  process  of  getting  illumination 
was  followed  in  its  toilsome  length  from  the  killing  of  the  animal 
and  the  trying  of  fat,  to  the  making  of  wicks  and  dipping  of  candles. 
The  supply  of  flour,  of  lumber,  of  foods,  of  building  materials,  of  house- 
hold furniture,  even  of  metal  ware,  of  nails,  hinges,  hammers,  etc., 
was  in  the  immediate  neighborhood,  in  shops  which  were  constantly 
open  to  inspection  and  often  centers  of  neighborhood  congregations. 
The  entire  industrial  process  stood  revealed,  from  the  production  on 
the  farm  of  the  raw  materials,  till  the  finished  article  was  actually 
put  to  use.  Not  only  this,  but  practically  every  member  of  the 
household  had  his  own  share  in  the  work.  The  children,  as  they  gained 
in  strength  and  capacity,  were  gradually  initiated  into  the  mysteries 
of  the  several  processes.  It  was  a  matter  of  immediate  and  personal 
concern,  even  to  the  point  of  actual  participation. 

We  cannot  overlook  the  factors  of  discipline  and  of  character 
building  involved  in  this :  training  in  habits  of  order  and  of  industry, 
and  in  the  idea  of  responsibility,  of  obligation  to  do  something,  to 
produce  something,  in  the  world.  There  was  always  something 
which  really  needed  to  be  done,  and  a  real  necessity  that  each 
member  of  the  household  should  do  his  own  part  faithfully  and  in 
cooperation  with  others.  Personalities  which  became  effective  in 
action  were  bred  and  tested  in  the  medium  of  action.  Again,  we 
cannot  overlook  the  importance  for  educational  purposes  of  the  close 
and  intimate  acquaintance  got  with  nature  at  first  hand,  with  real 
things  and  materials,  with  the  actual  processes  of  their  manipulation, 
and  the  knowledge  of  their  social  necessities  and  uses.  In  all  this 
there  was  continual  training  of  observation,  of  ingenuity,  construc- 
tive imagination,  of  logical  thought  and  of  the  sense  of  reality  acquired 
through  first-hand  contact  with  actualities.  The  educative  forces 
of  the  domestic  spinning  and  weaving,  of  the  sawmill,  the  grist- 
mill, the  cooper  shop  and  the  blacksmith  forge  were  continuously 
operative. 

No  number  of  object  lessons,  got  up  as  object  lessons  for  the  sake 
of  giving  information,  can  afford  even  the  shadow  of  a  substitute 
for  acquaintance  with  the  plants  and  animals  of  the  farm  and  gar- 


EDUCATION  AS  A  FACTOR  IN  SOCIAL  PROGRESS     209 

den,  acquired  through  actual  living  among  them  and  caring  for  them. 
No  training  of  sense  organs  in  school,  introduced  for  the  sake  of 
training,  can  begin  to  compete  with  the  alertness  and  fullness  of 
sense  life  that  comes  through  daily  intimacy  and  interest  in  familiar 
occupations.  Verbal  memory  can  be  trained  in  committing  tasks, 
a  certain  discipline  of  the  reasoning  powers  can  be  acquired  through 
lessons  in  science  and  mathematics ;  but,  after  all,  this  is  somewhat 
remote  and  shadowy  compared  with  the  training  of  attention  and  of 
judgment  that  is  acquired  in  having  to  do  things  with  a  real  motive 
behind  and  a  real  outcome  ahead.  At  present,  concentration  of  in- 
dustry and  division  of  labor  have  practically  eliminated  household 
and  neighborhood  occupations  —  at  least  for  educational  purposes. 
But  it  is  useless  to  bemoan  the  departure  of  the  good  old  days  of 
children's  modesty,  reverence  and  implicit  obedience,  if  we  expect 
merely  by  bemoaning  and  exhortation  to  bring  them  back,  fit  is  radi- 
cal conditions  which  have  changed,  and  only  an  equally  radical  change 
in  education  suffice^.  We  must  recognize  our  compensations  — 
the  increase  in  toleration,  in  breadth  of  social  judgment,  the  larger 
acquaintance  with  human  nature,  the  sharpened  alertness  in  read- 
ing signs  of  character  and  interpreting  social  situations,  greater  ac- 
curacy of  adaptation  of  differing  personalities,  contact  with  greater 
commercial  activities.  These  considerations  mean  much  to  the 
city-bred  child  of  to-day.  Yet  there  is  a  real  problem :  how  shall 
we  retain  these  advantages,  and  yet  introduce  into  the  school  some- 
thing representing  the  other  side  of  life — occupations  which  exact 
personal  responsibilities  and  which  train  the  child  with  relation  to 
the  physical  realities  of  life? 

When  we  turn  to  the  school,  we  find  that  one  of  the  most  striking 
tendencies  at  present  is  toward  the  introduction  of  so-called  manual 
training,  shop  work  and  the  household  arts  —  sewing  and  cooking. 

This  has  not  been  done  "  on  purpose/'  with  a  full  consciousness 
that  the  school  must  now  supply  the  factor  of  training  formerly 
taken  care  of  in  the  home,  but  rather  by  instinct,  by  experimenting 
and  finding  that  such  work  takes  a  vital  hold  of  pupils  and  gives  them 
something  which  was  not  to  be  got  in  any  other  way.  Conscious- 
ness of  its  real  import  is  still  so  weak  that  the  work  is  often  done  in 
a  half-hearted,  confused  and  unrelated  way.  The  reasons  assigned 
to  justify  it  are  painfully  inadequate  or  sometimes  even  positively 
wrong. 

If  we  were  to  cross-examine  even  those  who  are  most  favorably 
disposed  to  the  introduction  of  this  work  into  our  school  system,  we 
should,  I  imagine,  generally  find  the  main  reasons  to  be  that  such 
work  engages  the  full  spontaneous  interest  and  attention  of  the  ctyil- 
dren.  It  keeps  them  alert  and  active,  instead  of  passive  and  recep- 


210  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

tive;  it  makes  them  more  useful,  more  capable  and  hence  more 
inclined  to  be  helpful  at  home ;  it  prepares  them  to  some  extent  for 
the  practical  duties  of  later  life  —  girls  to  be  more  efficient  house 
managers,  if  not  actually  cooks  and  seamstresses;  the  boys  (were 
our  educational  system  only  adequately  rounded  out  into  trade 
schools)  for  their  vocations.  I  do  not  underestimate  the  worth  of 
these  reasons.  Of  those  indicated  by  the  changed  attitude  of  the 
children  I  shall  indeed  have  something  to  say  in  my  next  talk  when 
speaking  directly  of  the  relationship  of  the  school  to  the  child.  But 
the  point  of  view  is,  upon  the  whole,  unnecessarily  narrow.  We 
must  conceive  of  work  in  wood  and  metal,  of  weaving,  sewing  and  cook- 
ing, as  methods  of  life,  not  as  distinct  studies. 

We  must  conceive  of  them,  in  their  social  significance,  as  types 
the  processes  by  which  society  keeps  itself  going,  as  agencies  for  bring- 
ing home  to  the  child  some  of  the  primal  necessities  of  community 
life  and  as  ways  in  which  these  needs  have  been  met  by  the  growing 
insight  and  ingenuity  of  man ;  in  short,  as  instrumentalities  through 
which  the  school  itself  shall  be  made  a  genuine  form  of  active  commu- 
nity life,  instead  of  a  place  set  apart  in  which  to  learn  lessons. 

A  society  is  a  number  of  people  held  together  because  they  are 
working  along  common  lines,  in  a  common  spirit,  and  with  reference 
to  common  aims.  The  common  needs  and  aims  demand  a  growing 
interchange  of  thought  and  growing  unity  of  sympathetic  feeling. 
The  radical  reason  that  the  present  school  cannot  organize  itself  as 
a  natural  social  unit  is  because  just  this  element  of  common  and  pro- 
ductive activity  is  absent.  Upon  the  playground,  in  game  arid  sport, 
social  organization  takes  place  spontaneously  and  inevitably.  There 
is  something  to  do,  some  activity  to  be  carried  on,  requiring  natural 
divisions  of  labor,  selection  of  leaders  and  followers,  mutual  coopera- 
tion and  emulation.  In  the  schoolroom  the  motive  and  the  cement 
of  social  organization  are  alike  wanting.  Upon  the  ethical  side,  the 
tragic  weakness  of  the  present  school  is  that  it  endeavors  to  prepare 
future  members  of  the  social  order  in  a  medium  in  which  the  con- 
ditions of  the  social  spirit  are  eminently  wanting. 

The  difference  that  appears  when  occupations  are  made  the  articu- 
lating centers  of  school  life  is  not  easy  to  describe  in  words ;  it  is  a  i 
difference  in  motive,  of  spirit  and  atmosphere.  As  one  enters  a  busy 
kitchen  in  which  a  group  of  children  are  actively  engaged  in  the 
preparation  of  food,  the  psychological  difference,  the  change  from  more 
or  less  passive  and  inert  recipiency  and  restraint  to  one  of  buoy- 
ant outgoing  energy  is  so  obvious  as  fairly  to  strike  one  in  the  face. 
Indeed,  to  those  whose  image  of  the  school  is  rigidly  set  the  change 
is  sure  to  give  a  shock.  But  the  change  in  the  social  attitude  is 
equally  marked.  The  mere  absorption  of  facts  and  truths  is  so  ex- 


EDUCATION  AS  A  FACTOR  IN  SOCIAL  PROGRESS     211 

clusively  individual  an  affair  that  it  tends  very  naturally  to  pass 
into  selfishness.  There  is  no  obvious  social  motive  for  the  acquire- 
ment of  mere  learning,  there  is  no  clear  social  gain  in  success  thereat. 
Indeed,  almost  the  only  measure  for  success  is  a  competitive  one, 
in  the  bad  sense  of  that  term  —  a  comparison  of  results  in  the  recita- 
tion or  in  the  examination  to  see  which  child  has  succeeded  in  getting 
ahead  of  others  in  storing  up,  in  accumulating  the  maximum  of  in- 
formation. So  thoroughly  is  this  the  prevalent  atmosphere  that  for 
one  child  to  help  another  in  his  task  has  become  a  school  crime.  Where 
the  school  work  consists  in  simply  learning  lessons,  mutual  assistance, 
instead  of  being  the  most  natural  form  of  cooperation  and  associa-j- 
tion,  becomes  a  clandestine  effort  to  relieve  one's  neighbor  of  his 
proper  duties.  Where  active  work  is  going  on  all  this  is  changed. 
Helping  others,  instead  of  being  a  form  of  charity  which  impoverishes 
the  recipient,  is  simply  an  aid  in  setting  free  the  powers  and  further- 
ing the  impulse  of  the  one  helped.  A  spirit  of  free  communication, 
of  interchange  of  ideas,  suggestions,  results,  both  successes  and  failures 
of  previous  experiences,  becomes  the  dominating  note  of  the  recita- 
tion. So  far  as  emulation  enters  in,  it  is  in  the  comparison  of  in- 
dividuals, not  with  regard  to  the  quantity  of  information  personally 
absorbed,  but  with  reference  to  the  quality  of  work  done  —  the 
genuine  community  standard  of  value.  In  an  informal  but  all  the 
more  pervasive  way,  the  school  life  organizes  itself  on  a  social  basis. 
Within  this  organization  is  found  the  principal  of  school  disci- 
pline or  order.  Of  course,  order  is  simply  a  thing  which  is  relative 
to  an  end.  If  you  have  the  end  in  view  of  forty  or  fifty  children  learn- 
ing certain  set  lessons,  to  be  recited  to  a  teacher,  your  discipline 
must  be  devoted  to  securing  that  result.  But  the  end  in  view  is  the 
development  of  a  spirit  of  social  cooperation  and  community  life; 
discipline  must  grow  out  of  and  be  relative  to  this.  There  is  little 
order  of  one  sort  where  things  are  in  process  of  construction ;  there 
is  certain  disorder  in  any  busy  workshop ;  there  is  not  silence ;  per- 
sons are  not  engaged  in  maintaining  certain  fixed  physical  postures ; 
their  arms  are  not  folded ;  they  are  not  holding  their  books  thus  and 
so.  They  are  doing  a  variety  of  things,  and  there  is  the  confusion, 
the  bustle,  that  results  from  activity.  But  out  of  occupation,  out 
of  doing  things  that  are  to  produce  results,  and  out  of  doing  these  in 
a  social  and  cooperative  way,  there  is  born  a  discipline  of  its  own 
kind  and  type.  Our  whole  conception  of  school  discipline  changes 
when  we  get  this  point  of  view.  In  critical  moments  we  all  realize 
that  the  only  discipline  that  stands  by  us,  the  only  training  that  be- 
comes intuition,  is  that  got  through  life  itself.  That  we  learn  from 
experience,  and  from  books  or  the  sayings  of  others  only  as  they  are 
related  to  experience,  are  not  mere  phrases.  But  the  school  has  been 


212  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

so  set  apart,  so  isolated  from  the  ordinary  conditions  and  motives 
of  life,  that  the  place  where  children  are  sent  for  discipline  is  the  one 
place  in  the  world  where  it  is  most  difficult  to  get  experience  —  the 
mother  of  all  discipline  worth  the  name.  It  is  only  where  a  narrow 
and  fixed  image  of  traditional  school  discipline  dominates  that  one 
is  in  any  danger  of  overlooking  that  deeper  and  infinitely  w^der  disci- 
pline that  comes  from  having  a  part  to  do  in  constructive  work,  in  con- 
tributing to  a  result  which,  social  in  spirit,  is  none  the  less  obvious 
and  tangible  in  form  —  and  hence  in  a  form  with  reference  to  which 
responsibility  may  be  exacted  and  accurate  judgment  passed. 

The  great  thing  to  keep  in  mind,  then,  regarding  the  introduction  into 
the  school  of  various  forms  of  active  occupation  is  that  through  them 
the  entire  spirit  of  the  school  is  renewed.  It  has  a  chance  to  affiliate 
itself  with  life,  to  become  the  child's  habitat,  where  he  learns  through 
direct  living  instead  of  being  only  a  place  to  learn  lessons  having  an 
abstract  and  remote  reference  to  some  possible  living  to  be  done  in 
the  future.  It  gets  a  chance  to  be  a  miniature  community,  an  embry- 
onic society.  This  is  the  fundamental  fact,  and  from  this  arise  con- 
tinuous and  orderly  sources  of  instruction.  Under  .the  industrial  re- 
gime described,  the  child,  after  all,  shared  in  the  work,  not  for  the 
sake  of  the  sharing,  but  for  the  sake  of  the  product.  The  educational 
results  secured  were  real,  yet  incidental  and  dependent.  But  in  the 
school  the  typical  occupations  followed  are  freed  from  all  economic  stress. 
The  aim  is  not  the  economic  value  of  the  products,  but  the  develop- 
ment of  social  power  and  insight.  It  is  this  liberation  from  narrow 
utilities,  this  openness  to  the  possibilities  of  the  human  spirit,  that 
makes  these  practical  activities  in  the  school  allies  of  art  and  cen- 
ters of  science  and  history. 

But  all  this  means  a  necessary  change  in  the  attitude  of  the  school, 
one  of  which  we  are  as  yet  far  from  realizing  the  full  force.  Our 
school  methods,  and  to  a  very  considerable  extent  our  curriculum, 
are  inherited  from  the  period  when  learning  and  command  of  certain 
symbols,  affording  as  they  did  the  only  access  to  learning,  were  all- 
important.  The  ideals  of  this  period  are  still  largely  in  control,  even 
where  the  outward  methods  and  studies  have  been  changed.  We 
sometimes  hear  the  introduction  of  manual  training,  art  and  science 
into  the  elementary,  and  even  the  secondary,  schools  deprecated  on 
the  ground  that  they  tend  toward  the  production  of  specialists  — 
that  they  detract  from  our  present  scheme  of  generous,  liberal  cul- 
ture. The  point  of  this  objection  would  be  ludicrous  if  it  were  not 
often  so  effective  as  to  make  it  tragic.  It  is  our  present  education 
which  is  highly  specialized,  one-sided  and  narrow.  It  is  an  educa- 
tion dominated  almost  entirely  by  the  medieval  conception  of  learn- 
ing. It  is  something  which  appeals  for  the  most  part  simply  to  the 


EDUCATION  AS  A  FACTOR  IN   SOCIAL  PROGRESS     213 

intellectual  aspect  of  our  natures,  our  desire  to  learn,  to  accumulate 
information,  and  to  get  control  of  the  symbols  of  learning;  not  to 
our  impulses  and  tendencies  to  make,  to  do,  to  create,  to  produce, 
whether  in  the  form  of  utility  or  of  art.  The  very  fact  that  manual 
training,  art  and  science  are  objected  to  as  technical,  as  tending 
toward  mere  specialism,  is  of  itself  as  good  testimony  as  could  be 
offered  to  the  specialized  aim  which  controls  current  education.  Unless 
education  had  been  virtually  identified  with  the  exclusively  intellec- 
tual pursuits,  with  learning  as  such,  all  these  materials  and  methods 
would  be  welcome,  would  be  greeted  with  the  utmost  hospitality. 

But  why  should  I  make  this  labored  presentation?  The  obvious 
fact  is  that  our  social  life  has  undergone  a  thorough  and  radical  change. 
If  our  education  is  to  have  any  meaning  for  life,  it  must  pass  through 
an  equally  complete  Jj^oformatioiL->  This  transformation  is  not 
something  to  appear  suddenly,  to  be  executed  in  a  day  by  conscious 
purpose.  It  is  already  in  progress.  Those  modifications  of  our 
school  system  which  often  appear  (even  to  those  most  actively  con- 
cerned with  them,  to  say  nothing  of  their  spectators)  to  be  mere  changes 
of  detail,  mere  improvement  within  the  school  mechanism,  are  in 
reality  signs  and  evidences  of  evolution.  The  introduction  of  active^ 
occupations,  of  nature  study,  of  elementary  science,  of  art,  of  history ; 
the  relegation  of  merely  symbolic  ^and  formal  studies  to  a  secondary 
position ;  the  change  in  the  moral  school  atmosphere,  in  the  relation  of 
pupils  and  teachers  —  of  discipline ;  the  introduction  of  more  active, 
expressive  and  self-directing  factors-1- all  these  are  not  mere  accidents; 
they  are  necessities  of  the  larger  social  evolution.  It  remains  but 
TxTorganize  all  these  factors,  to  appreciate,  them  in  their  fullness  of 
meaning,  and  to  put  the  ideas  and  ideals  involved  into  complete, 
uncompromising  possession  of  our  school  system.  To  do  this  means, 
to  make  each  one  of  our  schools  an  embryonic  community  life,  active 
and  with  types  of  occupations  that  reflect  the  life  of  the  larger  society, 
and  permeated  throughout  with  the  spirit  of  art,  history,  and  science. 
When  the  school  introduces  and  trains  each  child  of  society  into  mem- 
bership within  such  a  little  community*  saturating  him  with  the 
spirit  of  service,  and  providing  him  with  the  instruments  of  effective 
self -direction,  we  shall  have  the  deepest  and  best  guarantee  of  a  large 
society  which  is  worthy,  lovely  and  harmonious.  ...  I/ 

From  the  standpoint  of  the  child,  the  great  waste  in  the  school 
comes  from  his  inability^to^  utilize  the  experiences  he  gets  outside 
the  school  in  any  complete  and  free  way  within  the  school  itself ;  while, 
on  the  other  hand,  he  is  unable  to  apply  in  daily  life  what  he  is  learn- 
ing at  school.  That  is  the  isolation  of  the  school  —  its  isolation  from 
life.  When  the  child  gets  into  the  schoolroom,  he  has  to  put  out  of 
his  mind  a  large  part  of  the  ideas,  interests  and  activities  that  pre- 


214  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

dominate  in  his  home  and  neighborhood.  So  the  school,  being  un- 
able to  utilize  this  everyday  experience,  sets  painfully  to  work,  on 
another  tack  and  by  a  variety  of  means,  to  arouse  in  the  child  an 
interest  in  school  studies.  While  I  was  visiting  in  the  city  of  Mo- 
line  a  few  years  ago,  the  superintendent  told  me  that  they  found  many 
children  every  year,  who  were  surprised  to  learn  that  the  Mississippi 
River  in  the  textbook  had  anything  to  do  with  the  stream  of  water 
flowing  past  their  homes.  The  geography  being  simply  a  matter  of  the 
schoolroom,  it  is  more  or  less  of  an  awakening  to  many  children  to 
find  that  the  whole  thing  is  nothing  but  a  more  formal  and  definite 
statement  of  the  facts  which  they  see,  feel  and  touch  every  day. 
When  we  think  that  we  all  live  on  the  earth,  that  we  live  in  an  at- 
mosphere, that  our  lives  are  touched  at  every  point  by  the  influence 
of  the  soil,  flora  and  fauna,  by  considerations  of  light  and  heat,  and 
then  think  of  what  the  school  study  of  geography  has  been,  we  have 
a  typical  idea  of  the  gap  existing  between  the  everyday  experiences 
of  the  child  and  the  isolated  material  supplied  in  such  large  measure 
in  the  school.  This  is  but  an  instance,  and  one  upon  which  most  of 
us  may  reflect  long  before  we  take  the  present  artificiality  of  the  school 
-  as  other  than  a  matter  of  course  or  necessity. 

Though  there  should  be  organic  connection  between  the  school 
and  business  life,  it  is  not  meant  that  the  school  is  to  prepare  the 
child  for  any  particular  business,  but  that  there  should  be  a  natural 
connection  of  the  everyday  life  of  the  child  with  the  business  environ- 
ment about  him,  and  that  it  is  the  affair  of  the  school  to  clarify  a 
liberalize  this  connection,  to  bring  it  to  consciousness,  not  by  intro-^ 
ducing  special  studies,  like  commercial  geography  and  arithmetic,% 
but  by  keeping  alive  the  ordinary  bonds  of  relation.  The  subject^ 
of  compound-business  partnership  is  probably  not  "in  many  of  the 
arithmetics  nowadays,  though  it  was  there  not  a  generation 
ago,  for  the  makers  of  textbooks  said  that  if  they  left  out 
anything,  they  could  not  sell  their  books.  This  compound-business 
partnership  originated  as  far  back  as  the  sixteenth  century.  The 
joint-stock  company  had  not  been  invented,  and  as  large  commerce 
with  the  Indies  and  Americas  grew  up,  it  was  necessary  to  have  an 
accumulation  of  capital  with  which  to  handle  it.  One  man  said, 
"I  will  put  in  this  amount  of  money  for  six  months,"  and  another,  "  So 
much  for  two  years, "  and  so  on.  Thus  by  joining  together  they  got 
money  enough  to  float  their  commercial  enterprises.  Naturally,  then, 
"  compound  partnership  "  was  taught  in  the  schools.  The  joint- 
stock  company  was  invented,  compound  partnership  disappeared, 
but  the  problems  relating  to  it  stayed  in  the  arithmetics  for  two  hun- 
dred years.  They  were  kept  after  they  had  ceased  to  have  practical 
utility,  for  the  sake  of  mental  discipline  —  they  were  "  such  hard 


EDUCATION  AS  A  FACTOR  IN  SOCIAL  PROGRESS     215 

problems,  you  know."  A  great  deal  of  what  is  now  in  the  arithme- 
tics under  the  head  of  percentage  is  of  the  same  nature.  Children 
of  twelve  and  thirteen  years  of  age  go  through  gain-and-loss  calcula- 
tions and  various  forms  of  bank  discount,  so  complicated  that  the 
bankers  long  ago  dispensed  with  them.  And  when  it  is  pointed 
out  that  business  is  not  done  this  way,  we  hear  again  of 
"  mental  discipline."  And  yet  there  are  plenty  of  real  connections 
between  the  experience  of  children  and  business  conditions  which 
need  to  be  utilized  and  illuminated.  The  child  should  study  his 
commercial  arithmetic  and  geography,  not  as  isolated  things  by  them- 
selves, but  in  their  reference  to  his  social  environment.  The  youth 
needs  to  become  acquainted  with  the  bank  as  a  factor  in  modern  life, 
with  what  it  does,  and  how  it  does  it ;  and  then  relevant  arithmetical 
processes  would  have  some  meaning  —  quite  in  contradistinction 
to  the  time-absorbing  and  mind-killing  examples  in  percentage,  par- 
tial payments,  etc.,  found  in  all  our  arithmetics. 

There  is  much  of  utter  triviality  of  subject  matter  in  elementary 
land  secondary  education.  When  we  investigate  it,  we  find  that  it 
is  full  of  facts  taught  that  are  not  facts,  which  have  to  be  unlearned 
I  later  on.  Now,  this  happens  because  the  "lower"  parts  of  our 
[system  are  not  in  vital  connection  with  the  "  higher."  The  uni- 
versity or  college,  in  its  idea,  is  a  place  of  research,  where  investi- 
gation is  going  on ;  a  place  of  libraries  and  museums,  where  the  best 
resources  of  the  past  are  gathered,  maintained  and  organized.  It 
| is,  however,  as  true  in  the  school  as  in  the  university  that  the  spirit 
of  inquiry  can  be  got  only  through  and  with  the  attitude  of  inquiry. 

The  pupil  must  learn  what  has  meaning,  what  enlarges  his  horizon, 
jistead  of  mere  trivialities.  He  must  become  acquainted  with  truths, 
instead  of  things  that  were  regarded  as  such  fifty  years  ago,  or  that 
ar6^"faFeh"  as  interesting  by  the  misunderstanding  of  a  partially 
educated  teacher.  It  is  difficult  to  see  how  these  ends  can  be  reached 
except  as  the  most  advanced  part  of  the  educational  system  is  in  com- 
plete interaction  with  the  most  rudimentary. 

The  school  must  come  out  of  its  isolation  and  secure  the  organic 
connection  with  social  life  of  which  we  have  been  speaking. 

The  object  of  these  forms  of  practice  in  the  school  is  not  found 
chiefly  in  themselves,  or  in  the  technical  skill  of  cooks,  seamstresses, 
carpenters  and  masons,  but  in  their  connection,  on  the  social  side, 
with  the  life  without,  while  on  the  individual  side  they  respond  to  the 
child's  need  of  action,  of  expression,  of  desire  to  do  something,  to  be 
constructive  and  creative,  instead  of  simply  passive  and  conforming. 
Their  great  significance  is  that  they  keep  the  balance  between  the 
social  and  individual  sides  —  the  chart  symbolizing  particularly  the 
connection  with  the  social.  Here  on  one  side  is  the  home.  How 


216  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

naturally  the  lines  of  connection  play  back  and  forth  between  the  home 
and  the  kitchen  and  the  textile  room  of  the  school !  The  child  can 
carry  over  what  he  learns  in  the  home  and  utilize  it  in  the  school, 
and  the  things  learned  in  the  school  he  applies  at  home.  These  are 
the  two  great  things  in  breaking  down  isolation,  in  getting  connec- 
tion —  to  have  the  child  come  to  school  with  all  the  experience  he 
has  got  outside  the  school,  and  to  leave  it  with  something  to  be  imme- 
diately used  in  his  everyday  life.  The  child  comes  to  the  traditional 
school  with  a  healthy  body  and  a  more  or  less  unwilling  mind.  Though, 
in  fact,  he  does  not  bring  both  his  body  and  mind  with  him ;  he  has 
to  leave  his  mind  behind,  because  there  is  no  way  to  use  it  in  the  school. 
If  he  had  a  purely  abstract  mind,  he  could  bring  it  to  school  with  him,, 
but  his  is  a  concrete  one,  interested  in  concrete  things,  and  unless 
these  things  get  over  into  school  life,  he  cannot  take  his  mind  withj 
him.  What  we  want  is  to  have  the  child  come  to  school  with  a  whole 
mind  and  a  whole  body,  and  leave  school  with  a  fuller  mind  and  an 
even  healthier  body. 

Thus  I  have  attempted  to  indicate  how  the  school  may  be  connected 
with  life  so  that  the  experience  gained  by  the  child  in  a  familiar,  com- 
monplace way  is  carried  over  and  made  use  of  there,  and  what  the 
child  learns  in  the  school  is  carried  back  and  applied  in  everyday 
life,  making  the  school  an  organic  whole  instead  of  a  composite  o 
isolated  parts.     The  isolation  of  studies  as  well  as  of  parts  of  the 
school  system  disappears.     Experience  has  its  geographical  aspect 
its  artistic  and  its  literary,  its  scientific  and  its  historical,  sides.     Al 
studies  arise  from  aspects  of  the  one  earth  and  the  one  life  lived  upon 
it.     We  do  not  have  a  series  of  stratified  earths,  one  of  which  is  mathe- 
matical, another  physical,  another  historical  and  so  on.     We  shoulc 
not  live  very  long  in  any  one  taken  by  itself.     We  live  in  a  work 
where  all  sides  are  bound  together.      All  studies  grow  out  of  rela- 
tions in  the  one  great  common  world.     When  the  child  lives  in  variec 
but  concrete  and  active  relationship  to  this  common  world,  his  studies 
are  naturally  unified.     It  will  no  longer  be  a  problem  to  correlate 
studies.     The  teacher  will  not  have  to  resort  to  all  sorts  of  devices 
to  weave  a  little  arithmetic  into  the  history  lessons,  and  the  like 
Relate  the  school  to  life,  and  all  studies  are  of  necessity  correlated 

Moreover,  if  the  school  %  is  related  as  a  whole  to  life  as  a  whole,  its 
various  aims  and  ideals  —  culture,  discipline,  information,  utility  - 
cease  to  be  variants,  for  one  of  which  we  must  select  one  study  and  for 
another,  another.  The  growth  of  the  child  in  the  direction  of  socia 
capacity  and  service,  his  larger  and  more  vital  union  with  life,  be- 
comes the  unifying  aim ;  and  discipline,  culture  and  information 
fall  into  place  as  phases  of  this  growth. 

J.  Dewey,  Extracts  from  The  School  and  Society.    Chicago,  1899. 


EDUCATION  AS  A  FACTOR  IN  SOCIAL  PROGRESS     217 

Relation  of  Education  to  Social  Progress 

Thoughtful  people  of  all  times  have  regarded  the  school  as  an  im- 
portant factor  in  social  evolution. 

Ross 1  says,  "  School  education,  in  our  day,  is  a  mighty  engine  of 
progress.  The  teacher  has  a  wider  outlook  and  a  freer  mind  than  the 
average  parent."  Scott,2  "  The  school  at  its  best  is  a  prophecy  of  a 
better  and  nobler  life."  Ellwood,3  "  Education  is  a  means  of  control- 
ling habit  and  character  in  complex  social  groups,  and  as  such  it  is  the 
chief  means  to  which  society  must  look  for  all  substantial  social  prog- 
ress. It  is  the  instrument  by  which  human  nature  may  be  apparently 
indefinitely  modified,  and  hence,  also,  the  instrument  by  which  so- 
ciety may  be  perfected.  The  task  of  regeneration  is  essentially  a 
task  of  education."  Dewey  calls  the  school  a  fundamental  means  of 
social  progress  and  reform.  Such  statements  as  these  should  stimulate 
the  student  of  the  social  aspects  of  education  not  only  to  a  detailed 
and  careful  analysis  of  the  relation  of  education  to  progress,  but  also 
to  a  determination  of  the  ways  in  which  it  may  play  an  even  larger 
part  in  social  development. 

To  deal  even  in  a  general  way  with  such  questions  as  these,  we  need 
to  have  at  least  a  working  hypothesis  of  what  may  properly  be 
meant  by  social  progress.  We  must  be  careful,  however,  not  to 
devote  attention  to  mere  niceties  of  thought  so  as  to  lose  sight  of  the 
more  concrete  and  practical  phases. 

It  is  easier  to  tell  some  of  the  changes  that  have  taken  place  and  are 
taking  place  in  society  than  to  define  progress  abstractly.  If  we  are 
convinced  beforehand  that  modern  society  is  progressive,  we  will  then 
think  of  these  changes  as,  in  the  main,  making  for  progress.  We  all 
probably  believe,  for  one  thing,  that  genuine  social  progress  must  mean 
increased  human  happiness  in  some  form  or  other.  This  is  not  the 
place  to  discuss  the  conditions  of  happiness.  The  ultimate  ground  of 
happiness,  of  course,  is  the  individual  himself  and  his  way  of  looking 
at  life  and  the  thoughts  he  harbors  in  his  mind.  There  are,  to  be  sure, 
many  external  conditions  which  help  or  hinder  the  development  of 
the  proper  inner  attitude,  and  social  progress  may  be  stated  to  some 
extent  in  terms  of  these  external  conditions.  Hence  we  think  of  de- 

1  Social  Psychology.       2  Social  Education.        3  Sociology  and  Modern  Social  Problems. 


218  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

crease  of  disease,  poverty  and  crime,  betterment  of  heredity,  increase 
of  general  material  comfort,  of  opportunities  for  recreation  and  social 
intercourse,  opportunity  for  each  individual  to  engage  in  some  sort 
of  production  recognized  as  useful  to  society  and  increase  of  knowl- 
edge as  evidences  of  social  progress. 

Human  society  is  in  process  of  ceaseless  change  and  differentiation, 
changes  which  often  seem  to  bear  no  positive  relation  to  individual, 
and  social  betterment.  In  fact,  the  chief  difficulty  of  defining  human_ 
progress  lies  in  its  complexity  and  in  the  fact  that  it  is  too  often  un- 
equal. In  the  long  run,  the  mastery  and  the  conservation  of  the  re- 
sources of  nature  are  elements  of  social  evolution,  although  at  any 
given  moment  misery  rather  than  increased  happiness  may  seem  to  be 
the  outcome.  Progress,  we  may  conceive,  as  involving  a  series  of 
more  or  less  complex  changes  in  human  nature,  in  social  relations  and 
in  man's  relation  to  his  environment  which,  in  the  long  run,  make  for 
greater  general  happiness  and  greater  efficiency  in  the  attainment 
of  life's  ideals.1 

How  are  these  things  accomplished?  Ellwood  specifies  three 
means.  "  The  lowest  method  of  evolution  was  by  [natural]  selection,^ 
and  that  .  .  .  cannot  be  neglected.  The  next  method  of  social  evolu- 
tion apparently  to  develop  was  the  method  of  adaptation  by  organized 
authority,  and  .  .  .  organized  authority  in  society,  or  social  regulation 
by  means  of  authority,  must  indefinitely  persist  and  perhaps  increase, 
rather  than  diminish;  but  the  latest  and  highest  method  of  social 
evolution  is  not  through  biological  selection  nor  through  the  exercise 
of  despotic  authority,  but  through  the  education  of  the  individual. 
.  .  .  Human  society  may  be  modified  best,  we  now  see,  through 
modifying  the  nature  of  the  individual,  and  the  most  direct  method 
[of  doing]  this  is  through  education."  2 

When  we  come  to  specify  in  detail  the  ways  in  which  education 
may  make  for  social  betterment,  we  note  first  of  all  what  it  may  actu- 
ally accomplish  when  reduced  to  its  lowest  terms.  The  crude  edu- 
cation of  savage  peoples  serves  to  keep  the  primitive  social  group 

1  It  would  carry  us  far  beyond  our  present  purpose  to  attempt  to  say  what  these  ide 
are,  or  whence  they  come.    We  shall  here  simply  assume  that  man  has  ideals  and  that  ] 
ress  is  to  be  measured  by  the  degree  of  his  attainment  of  them. 

2  Sociology  and  Modern  Social  Problems,  p.  318. 


EDUCATION  AS  A  FACTOR  IN   SOCIAL  PROGRESS     219 

to  the  existing  level  of  culture.  It  is  at  least  a  conserver  of  existing 
culture.  In  some  way  or  other,  every  society  must  accomplish  this 
much,  or  retrogression  is  inevitable.  Furthermore,  every  educational 
process  tends  to  be  selective.  Not  every  aspect  of  even  a  primitive 
culture  can  be  taught  in  detail ;  something  must  be  chosen  and  much 
ignored,  and,  in  the  long  run,  it  is  probable  that  the  higrier  aspects  of  a 
society's  culture  are  selected  and  emphasized  through  education.  In 
this  way,  something,  little  though  it  may  be,  is  contributed  to  the  ad- 
vancement of  the  social  group.  It  is  then  through  the  more  or  less 
conscious  selection  of  the  more  useful  knowledge,  and  of  the  best 
modes  of  conduct  and  through  the  endeavor  to  eliminate  the  less  de- 
sirable habits  and  modes  of  thought,  that  society  is  able  in  some  meas- 
ure to  lift  itself  through  its  schools.  It  is  of  course  the  ideal  of  the 
best  educators  to  teach  the  best  and  most  stimulating  phases  of  human 
achievement,  to  fill  the  minds  of  boys  and  girls  with  noble  examples  of 
high-minded  living  from  history  and  literature.  In  so  doing,  they 
are  contributing  in  an  important  way  to  social  progress.  The  chief 
limitation  of  this  influence  is  that  it  does  not  occupy  the  child's  at- 
tention sufficiently.  There  are  so  many  other  influences  within  and 
without  the  school  to  dim,  if  not  to  obliterate,  the  impression.  How- 
ever, something  can  thus  be  accomplished.  To  give  some  very  simple 
illustrations,  the  level  of  purity  and  effectiveness  in  the  use  of  the 
mother  tongue  can  thus  be  raised.  The  appreciation  of  the  best  liter- 
ature can  be  more  widely  disseminated;  public  taste  for  music  and 
art  can  be  improved.  There  can  be  no  doubt  but  that  by  such  a  pro- 
cess of  wise  selection  of  materials  the  schools  do  effect  a  gradual  im- 
provement in  society  in  various  lines.  In  precisely  the  same  way 
moral  improvement  of  society  may  be  fostered,  although  pitiably  lit- 
tle in  this  direction  is  to-day  attempted  by  public  education. 

It  is  manifest,  however,  that  selection  will  not  go  far  toward  se- 
curing social  progress  unless  it  is  guided  by  a  consciousness  of  its  possi- 
bilities and  a  systematic  attempt  to  utilize  the  opportunities  afforded. 
It  is  just  this  conscious  and  definite  attempt  to  select  and  teach  the 
best  to  the  immature  members  of  the  social  group  that  is  the  most 
significant  aspect  of  modern  educational  activity. 

In  the  chapters  preceding  we  have  taken  up  various  aspects  of  this 
extension  of  current  education.  The  movements  for  vocational  train- 


220  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

ing,  for  playgrounds,  for  school  gardens,  all  represent  various  attempts 
to  select,  emphasize  and  promote  certain  desirable  aspects  of  present- 
day  culture. 

In  these  far-reaching  extensions  of  teaching  activity  it  would  seem 
that,  for  the  first  time,  social  progress  is  to  be  definitely  and  largely 
determined  by  educational  forces.  It  is  perhaps  sufficient,  for  all 
practical  purposes,  to  recognize  these  tendencies  and  to  note  that  they 
are  apparently  a  natural  and  inevitable  expression  of  the  type  of  social 
life  which  is  unfolding  in  our  midst.  The  thinker,  however,  will  be 
interested  to  relate  this  broadening  of  educational  activity  to  general 
social  movements,  to  determine  if  possible  the  principles  underlying 
this  extension  of  the  teaching  function.  In  other  words,  to  find,  if 
possible,  a  consistent  theoretical  justification  for  the  school  as  an  active 
factor  in  the  processes  of  social  readjustment  and  social  progress. 

This  justification,  on  the  side  of  educational  theory,  may  be  based 
upon  the  point  of  view  presented  in  earlier  sections  of  this  book; 
namely,  that  in  the  beginning  educational  activity  takes  its  rise  in 
some  more  or  less  clearly  felt  social  need.  Social  groups  demand1 
training  of  particular  kinds,  and  various  schools  spring  up  to  furnish 
it.  All  schools  depend  ultimately  upon  some  aspect  of  the  social 
process  for  their  right  to  exist. 

Schools  are  not,  however,  mere  tools,  mere  passive  instruments  for 
the  registration  and  expression  of  an  external  social  will.  They  them- 
selves represent  a  part  of  the  general  activity  of  society,  one  of  its 
institutions,  one  mode  of  expression  of  the  social  consciousness.  Ac- 
cording to  this  conception  it  is  not  the  function  of  educational  pro- 
cesses simply  to  register  social  progress.  Educational  forces  may 
quite  legitimately  take  an  active  and  conscious  part  in  the  general 
struggle  upward. 

If  society  be  conceived  as  organized,  in  part  at  least,  into  various 
institutions,  each  with  a  more  or  less  distinct  function,  then  it  is  easy 
to  see  that  progress,  whatever  it  may  be,  is  largely  a  resultant  of  the 
activities  of  the  various  institutions,  one  of  the  ways  in  which  these 
institutions  perform  their  respective  functions.  There  is  not,  in  other 
words,  any  particular  institution  or  portion  of  society  which  is  alone 
responsible  for  the  progress  of  society  as  a  whole.  Each  part  must 
contribute  its  impulse,  its  share  to  the  larger  movement.  It  should 


EDUCATION  AS  A  FACTOR  IN  SOCIAL  PROGRESS     221 

the  business  of  each  part  of  the  social  body  consciously  and  syste- 
matically to  extend  and  to  develop  its  particular  function.  It  is  thus 
hat  the  church  expands  and  presses  into  new  and  wider  fields  of  serv- 
ce;  so  with  organized  charities,  systems  of  exchange  and  of  com- 
munication. All  these  phases  of  social  activity  are  constantly  de- 
veloping new  aspects,  new  modes  of  expression.  The  public  press  is  a 
particularly  good  illustration  of  this  development  and  expansion  of  a 
*iven  function.  In  addition  to  merely  printing  and  circulating  an/ 
account  of  the  events  of  the  day,  it  frequently  undertakes  to  make 
original  investigations  in  all  sorts  of  vital  social  and  political  problems 
and  give  its  findings  to  the  public.  In  various  ways  this  publicity 
unction  has  expanded,  until  its  points  of  contact  with  society  as  a 
whole  far  surpass  anything  of  which  the  first  publishers  ever  dreamed. 

It  is,  in  fact,  only  as  a  social  agent  keeps  dynamic  and  progressive 

hat  it  can  maintain  itself  in  a  progressive  society,  for  the  work  which 

uch  a  society  needs  to  have  done  is,  in  the  nature  of  the  case,  growing 

in  complexity,  and  either  old  agents  must  be  able  to  handle  it  or  new 

means  of  meeting  the  need  must  be  developed. 

Now,  with  reference  to  the  school,  its  function  is  preeminently  that 
of  instruction  and  training,  and  not  only  is  there  a  greater  social  need 
than  ever  before  for  just  this  type  of  service,  but  also  it  is  more  than 
ever  the  business  of  the  school  to  study  current  situations  with  refer- 
ence to  new  ways  of  teaching  and  training,  not  merely  children,  but 
even  adults.  The  educational  forces  of  the  country  must  systemati- 
cally study  and  work  out  new  avenues  and  modes  of  expressing  the 
teaching  function.  That  the  burden  of  this  development  will  depend 
argely  upon  those  engaged  in  educational  work  is  natural,  because 
they  above  all  should  be  in  touch  with  the  general  social  need  of  in- 
struction. They,  best  of  all,  should  be  able  to  see  wherein  the  work  of 
the  schools  can  be  profitably  extended  so  as  to  perform  various  social 
services  as  yet  unprovided  for. 

This  presupposes  an  extension  of  the  teaching  function  far  beyond 
that  which  first  appeared  necessary  in  primitive  social  groups.  But 
Dresent-day  society  is  vastly  more  complex,  and  why  should  not  this 
aspect  of  its  activity  be  correspondingly  broader?  And  why  should 
lot  those  charged  with  the  duties  of  instruction  study  to  extend  their 
work  still  further,  to  exploit,  as  it  were,  their  function  in  the  social 


222  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

group  ?  Only  as  every  element  of  the  social  plexus  is  dynamic,  or 
reaching  out  for  fuller  and  more  complex  modes  of  expression,  can  there 
be  genuine  social  progress.  There  is,  in  fact,  no  logical  reason  why 
the  educational  forces  of  a  community  should  not  be  constantly  striv- 
ing to  extend  their  activities  on  every  side  as  far  as  they  have  resources 
and  as  far  as  they  do  not  find  the  field  preempted  by  other  forces. 
There  is  really  no  intrinsic  limit  to  the  development  of  any  function 
except  the  limit  of  resources  and  the  possible  preemption  of  the  field 
by  other  social  agencies. 

There  is  another  aspect  of  the  problem  of  the  relation  of  education 
to  progress  which  should  not  be  neglected  by  the  student  who  wishes 
to  go  into  the  matter  thoroughly.  Our  attention  has  thus  far  been 
fixed  upon  the  school's  opportunity  to  influence  progress  through  the 
material  or  content  which  it  selects  and  impresses  upon  the  learner. 
The  further  question  arises  as  to  whether  the  way  in  which  a  thing  is 
taught  as  well  as  the  thing  itself  has  any  significance  for  progress;  that 
is,  whether  it  may  be  taught  so  as  to  cultivate  individuality  and  an 
eager  progressive  spirit  in  the  learner,  or  whether  it  serves  rather  to  \ 
obliterate  the  child's  native  spontaneity  and  adjust  him  to  more  or 
less  predetermined  external  conditions.  To  answer  this  question 
requires  some  consideration  of  the  familiar  concept  of  the  ideal  of 
social  progress  as  some  sort  of  adjustment  to  a  particular  kind  of 
environment. 

Many  thinkers  on  sociological  subjects  have  followed  the  lead  of 
Herbert  Spencer,  who,  in  his  Data  of  Ethics,  defines  the  goal  of  human 
progress  as  complete  conformity  or  adaptation  to  environment.  Thus, 
a  recent  writer  defines  social  progress  as  "  the  adaptation  of  society 
to  a  wider  and  more  universal  environment.  The  ideal  of  human 
progress  is  apparently  adaptation^  to  a  perfectly  universal  environ- 
ment, such  an  adaptation  as  shall  harmonize  all  factors  whether  in- 
ternal or  external,  present  or  remote,  in  the  life  of  humanity."  1 

As  these  concepts  are  further  defined  and  discussed,  they  lose  some 
of  their  vagueness.  Taken,  however,  on  their  face  value,  they  seem 
to  imply  an  external,  inflexible,  physical  and  social  order  to  which  the 
individual  can  do  nothing  more  than  conform,  or  adjust,  himself.  || 
There  might  be  some  question  as  to  whether  in  this  and  in  many  othe 

1  Ell  wood,  Sociology  and  Modern  Social  Problems,  p.  314. 


EDUCATION  AS  A  FACTOR  IN   SOCIAL  PROGRESS     223 

•formulations'  of  the  meaning  of  progress,  there  is  not  too  great  stress 
•placed  upon  adaptation  to  environment.  It  depends,  of  course,  to  a 
large  extent  upon  what  is  meant  by  environment.  The  conceptions 
Doth  of  adaptation  and  of  environment  have  come  into  social  and  edu- 
cational science  from  biology.  In  biology  the  term  "  environment "  has 
undoubtedly  been  taken  to  mean  a  relatively  fixed  set  of  external  con- 
ditions to  which  living  forms  must  conform  or  perish.  The  environ- 
ment is  like  an  unyielding  Procrustean  bed  on  which  all  surviving  forms 
must  succeed  in  stretching  themselves.  The  environment  demands 
speed  of  the  deer,  and  speed  it  must  gain,  or  perish.  It  may  be  prop- 
erly said  that  the  deer  thus  becomes  adjusted  to  its  environment. 

It  is  true  that  for  the  lower  forms  of  life  the  environment  is  practi- 
:ally  fixed  and  fairly  simple.  But  the  higher  we  rise  in  the  scale  of 
ng,  the  more  complex  and  plastic  it  becomes,  the  more  subtle  are 
Jie  ways  in  which  it  affects  the  organism.  With  growing  complexity 
t  becomes  more  plastic,  more  subject  to  change.  Moreover,  the  higher 
orms  of  life  on  which  this  complex  environment  plays  become  increas- 
ngly  capable  of  modifying  it,  of  adjusting  it  to  themselves  as  well  as 
,hemselves  to  it.  We  may  find  clear  beginnings  of  this  adjustment  of 
,he  environment  to  the  animal  form  in  the  animal  series  below  man. 
iVhenever  a  bird  builds  a  nest  for  its  eggs,  instead  of  laying  its  eggs  on 
,he  ground,  it  is  as  truly  a  utilizing  of  environment,  an  adaptation  of 
t  to  the  bird's  needs  as  it  is  an  adaptation  of  the  bird  to  the  environ- 
nent.  The  bird  is  no  longer  at  the  mercy  of  the  elements.  The  mud, 
ticks,  straw,  strings,  become  plastic  at  its  deft  touch  and  are  serv- 
ints  instead  of  unyielding  masters. 

The  higher  the  position  in  the  scale  of  life,  the  greater  and  more 
nanifest  becomes  the  capacity  of  the  living  form  to  adjust  the  environ- 
nent  to  itself.  The  human  species,  of  course,  affords  the  most  con- 
picuous  examples  of  this  capacity.  We  do  not,  to  be  sure,  lose  sight 
>f  many  and  great  adaptations,  on  the  part  of  man  himself,  but  if 
nan's  adaptations  of  his  environment  to  his  unfolding  needs  have  not 
)een  as  great  as  the  changes  he  himself  has  been  forced  to  undergo, 
hey  at  least  cannot  be  ignored.  The  whole  process  of  civilization  has 
)een  a  gradual  freeing  of  mankind  from  subserviency  to  brute  natural 
:onditions.  More  and  more  has  it  been  possible  to  readjust  and  re- 
hape  these  conditions  until,  as  is  sometimes  said,  civilized  man  lives 


224  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

in  a  highly  artificial  environment.  Of  course,  this  is  not  an  environ- 
ment which  any  one  individual  has  constructed.  It  is  the  result  of 
the  collective  activity  of  many  generations,  but  it  is  none  the  less  arti- 
ficial and  none  the  less  an  adjustment  of  nature  to  meet  man's  needs. 
The  foods,  the  clothing,  the  shelter,  of  the  modern  man  are  all  the  re- 
sults of  his  determination  to  change  his  environment  rather  than  him- 
self. It  is  true  that  in  all  this  utilization  and  adjustment  of  the  forces 
and  materials  of  nature  to  himself  there  has  been  a  measure  of  adapta- 
tion on  man's  part  to  the  conditions  imposed  by  nature.  The  culti- 
vation of  the  soil  for  a  crop  of  grain  is  both  adaptation  of  and  adapta- 
tion to  the  conditions  of  nature.  The  building  of  a  dam  that  we  may 
render  the  power  of  the  water  available  to  run  a  mill  is  making  nature 
serve  us,  but  this  is  attained  through  submitting  to  certain  conditions 
imposed  by  nature.  We  have  to-day  harnessed  some  of  the  exhaust- 
less  supplies  of  electrical  energy  which  have  been  present  everywhere! 
in  nature  since  the  beginning  of  time.  In  this  we  have  made  nature 
serve  us,  but  we  have  also  had  to  meet  conditions  imposed  by  nature, 
among  others  the  construction  of  a  certain  type  of  machine,  the  dy- 
namo. In  making  dynamos  and  building  power  houses  we  are  in  a  real 
sense  adjusting  ourselves  to  our  environment,  but  this  concession  oni 
our  part  has  resulted  in  even  greater  concessions  to  us  on  the  part  oi 
our  environment. 

We  may,  then,  properly  think  of  the  environment  as  well  as  the  man 
as  plastic,  changing  quantities.  The  environment  is  not  the  whole 
world  outside  of  the  individual's  own  body.  It  is  actually  only  an 
infinitesimal  portion  of  this  world,  that  limited  portion  which  we  have 
to  contend  with  in  our  effort  to  realize  some  impulse  or  desire.  It  is 
that  plexus  of  materials  and  forces,  whether  mechanical,  vegetable, 
animal  or  human,  which  we  must  either  readjust  so  that  it  will  cooper- 
ate with  us  or  at  least  not  obstruct  us  in  our  purposes  or  with  reference 
to  which  we  must  reconstruct  our  purposes,  and  be  content  to  car 
them  out  in  some  modified  form,  that  forms  the  real  environment. 

Human  evolution  may  then,  from  one  point  of  view,  be  regarded 
a  progressive  realization  of  purposes  through  gradually  increasic 
skill  in  detecting  the  environmental  materials  and  forces  which 
be  turned  to  account  in  their  realization. 

The  whole  situation  involved  in  progress  is  complicated  and  subt 


EDUCATION  AS  A  FACTOR  IN  SOCIAL  PROGRESS     225 

in  the  highest  degree.  It  defies,  in  fact,  really  adequate  statement, 
cannot  describe  one  aspect  of  it  without  apparently  doing  some 
ther  aspect  of  it  injustice.  With  due  recognition  of  this  fact,  we  may  at 
east  say  that  no  concept  of  social  progress  based  merely  on  the  biologi- 
al  idea  of  adjustment  or  adaptation  to  a  fixed  environment  is  adequate 
r  even  true.  For  any  one  individual,  life  may  seem  to  involve  more 
djustment  than  utilization  —  and  yet,  if  progress,  on  the  whole,  con- 
ists  in  utilizing  as  well  as  adjusting,  it  is  clear  that  a  progressive  so- 
iety  must  have  a  good  proportion  of  individuals  who  are  capable  of 
arge  initiative,  who  shape  conditions  to  suit  their  purposes  rather 
tian  merely  suit  their  purposes  to  conditions. 

The  fundamental  condition  of  human  progress  is  the  human  quality 
f  eagerness,  of  impulse,  of  reaching  out  for  something  as  yet  unat- 
ained.  This  lies  at  the  basis  of  all  social  unrest  and  consequent  so- 
ial  changes.  It  is  the  quality  possessed  by  those  individuals  and 
aces  which  have  been  endlessly  experimenting,  trying  to  do  things 
Q  new  ways,  prying  into  the  hidden  things  of  nature,  exploring  with 
vidity  the  surface  of  the  globe  and  discovering  its  character  and  re- 
ources.  The  races  which  have  been  most  active  in  these  ways  are 
aid  to  be  the  progressive  races.  Not  that  mere  change  means  prog- 
ess.  It  may  as  easily  be  retrogression.  But,  unless  there  is  an 
mpulse  to  strike  out  into  new  paths,  to  try  new  things,  there  can  be 
ttle  or  no  movement  either  one  way  or  the  other. 

A  certain  amount  of  progress  is  possible  among  peoples  which  pos- 
ess  little  initiative,  but  it  is  dependent  upon  the  slow  action  of  nat- 
ral  selection,  and  it  is  questionable  whether  a  really  high  social  state 
ould  be  attained  in  any  such  manner.  The  savage  races  of  the  present 
ay  are  recognized  as  essentially  unprogressive.  What  little  they 
ave  attained  to  has  probably  come  through  blind  natural  selection. 
»ut  natural  selection  unaided  does  not  seem  to  be  able  to  do  more 
han  produce  an  adaptation  little  different  from  that  of  the  brute  to 
he  physical  environment.  Here  is  mere  adaptation  without  ijnjtia- 
ive,  without  that  divine  discontent  which  changes  the  environment 
o  suit  one's  needs  instead  of  submitting  to  it.  The  unclothed  body 
f  the  central  Australian  has  become  inured  to  the  extremes  of  cold 
<nd  heat  to  which  it  has  been  subjected  for  unknown  generations. 
jlis  stomach  has  become  adjusted  to  the  food  conditions.  Sometimes 


226  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

nature  furnishes  abundant  food,  sometimes  almost  none.  He  is  able 
to  live  under  conditions  which  impose  on  him  alternate  gorging  and 
deprivation.  This  remarkable  endurance  of  the  Australian  has  been 
gradually  wrought  out  by  natural  selection.  Those  who  could  not 
conform  perished  by  inexorable  law.  The  central  Australians,  there- 
fore, present  a  remarkable  degree  of  adaptation  to  environment.  At 
their  hands  natural  conditions  have  suffered  a  minimum  of  alteration. 
They  have  not  tried  to  make  clothes  or  to  construct  any  adequate 
shelter  or  to  till  the  soil.  They  eat  the  roots,  fruits,  game  and  even 
the  grubs  and  insects  that  nature  provides.  They  have  simply  taken  • 
things  as  they  are  and  have  learned  to  endure  them,  except  that  en- 
durance is  not  the  proper  word  from  their  point  of  view,  for  they  know 
nothing  else  and  are  therefore  quite  content. 

Similar  and  more  or  less  striking  illustrations  are  afforded  by  all  other  I 
nonprogressive  races.  There  is  no  question  but  that  the  stage  of 
culture  they  have  reached  is  almost  purely  the  result  of  natural  selec- 
tion. When  we  turn  to  the  so-called  progressive  races,  we  find  large 
numbers  who  simply  conform  to  conditions  imposed  upon  them. 
There  are  always  a  greater  or  less  number,  however,  who  are  restive 
under  all  conditions;  they  are  always  reaching  out  and  apparently \ 
seeking  for  fuller  and  fuller  expression  of  themselves. 

The  qualities  of  perseverance,  energy,  curiosity,  eagerness  for  ex- 
periment and  exploration,  in  a  word,  initiative,  are  probably  native 
ones,  the  peculiar  endowments  of  certain  races.  It  seems  likely  that 
the  beginnings  of  the  qualities  may  be  attributed  to  natural  selection. 
But  one  of  the  important  fields  of  operation  of  these  qualities  has  been 
that  of  the  training  of  children.  In  other  words,  the  progressive  quali- 
ties, themselves  largely  beyond  our  control,  set  in  operation  forces 
and  modes  of  activity  which  may  and  do  contribute  greatly  to  social  I 
improvement. 

The  betterment  and  the  increased  efficiency  of  human  life  are  in  a 
large  measure  dependent  upon  conscious  purpose.  Man  lifts  himself 
by  giving  thought  thereto,  and  not  the  least  effective  jneans  of  taking! 
thought  is  through  education. 

Even  in  the  lowest  savage  societies,  education,  while  not  making  foi  i 
progress,  performs,  as  we  have  seen,  an  important  function.  It  atj 
least  helps  maintain  the  tribe  in  its  existing  culture.  In  various  crudtj; 


EDUCATION  AS  A  FACTOR  IN  SOCIAL  PROGRESS     227 

ways  the  accomplishments  of  the  fathers  are  impressed  upon  the  chil- 
dren. There  is  no  thought  or  desire  that  the  children  shall  improve 
upon  the  ways  of  the  fathers.  In  fact,  in  all  savage  types  of  educa- 
tion, impulses  to  vary  a  jot  or  tittle  from  the  pattern  are  severely 
i  repressed.  The  keynote  of  their  training  is  unquestioning  imitation. 
iBut  even  at  this  level,  education  preserves  that  which  has  been 
attained,  though  it  does  not  make  for  higher  levels  of  efficiency. 

It  is  somewhat  surprising  at  first  thought  to  find  this  same  emphasis 
upon  imitation  in  the  education  of  the  progressive  races.  The  chief 
concern  of  adult  society  seems  to  be  that  the  children  should  spend 
most  of  their  time  acquiring  the  wisdom  and  skill  of  the  past.  We 
should  not  criticize  this  concern  if  it  had  coupled  with  it  a  clearer 
recognition  that  this  is  only  the  beginning  of  the  process,  not  an  end 
in  itself  but  a  means  to  an  end.  The  most  precious  heritage  of  pro- 
gressive races  is  personal  initiative,  and  their  most  serious  problem 
Its  how  to  conserve  and  direct  this  initiative  wisely.  Undirected,  it  is 
of  no  more  value  than  unconfined  steam;  it  is  mere  vaporing. 

The  child  studies  certain  aspects  of  the  culture  of  past  generations, 
I  not  merely  to  absorb  it  or  to  become,  as  it  were,  a  receptacle  in  which 
!  to  preserve  that  culture  intact,  as  the  arts  and  crafts  of  other  times  are 
i  preserved  in  museums  for  the  inspection  of  the  curious.  He  studies 
I  rather  that  he  may  use,  that  he  may  have  better  tools  for  the  expres- 
ijsion  of  his  initiative,  that  his  impulses  may  avoid  past  failures  and 
!  j  take  advantage  of  past  successes. 

The  emphasis  in  a  truly  progressive  society  must  then  be  upon  a  wise 

I  cultivation  of  the  individual  capacities  of  the  child  for  initiative  rather 

i  than  upon  his  simply  acquiring  in  passive  fashion  the  culture  of  the 

[past.     This  is  a  broad  generalization  which  must  be  interpreted  with 

'due  recognition  of  varying  conditions.   Children  vary  in  their  individual 

capacity  for  initiative.     Some  persons  will  attain  the  most  useful 

t  lives  when  they  simply  follow  unswervingly  in  the  steps  of  their  fathers. 

(Moreover,  the  importance  of  cultivating  initiative  in  progressive  so- 

t  cieties  does  not  rest  upon  the  narrow  conception  of  education  as  merely 

itfor  the  making  of  great  leaders.     It  is  true,  however,  that  the  qualities 

of  leadership,  for  which  there  is  such  a  large  place  in  the  modern  world, 

will  be  fostered  and  developed  by  such  a  type  of  education.     But 

'  khile  all  cannot  be  leaders  in  various  lines  of  industrial,  professional, 


228  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

political  and  social  activity,  all  do  need,  in  wider  or  narrower  spheres, 
the  capacity  of  self-direction  and  the  alertness  to  meet  and  take  ad- 
vantage of  new  conditions.  A  part  of  the  poverty  and  crime  of  mod- 
ern society  is  due  to  the  rapid  changes  in  the  conditions  of  life.  The 
pauper  is  not  merely  the  inefficient  one ;  he  is  often  one  who  was  by 
his  training  fitted  or  adjusted  to  a  social  and  industrial  order  which 
had  changed  ere  he  had  established  himself.  He  could  not  readjust 
himself  to  fit  the  new  conditions,  and  hence  dropped  down  into  the 
ranks  of  the  incapable. 

Here  we  see  the  great  objection  to  the  ideal  of  education  as  adjust- 
ment, especially  if  adjustment  is  taken  to  refer  to  a  fixed  social  order.1 
A  fixed  social  order  is  a  characteristic  of  savagery  rather  than  of  civili- 
zation. It  certainly  does  not  exist  amongst  ourselves.  •  A  child  trained 
for  a  particular  type  of  service  in  modern  society  will  almost  surely 
find  conditions  so  altered  when  he  comes  to  try  his  hand  that  unless 
he  possesses  a  large  endowment  of  initiative  and  originality  he  will 
have  great  difficulty  in  fitting  in.  That  so  large  a  proportion  of  our 
young  men  and  women  do  succeed  in  life  is  an  evidence  of  their  large 
native  endowment  along  these  lines.  It  may  be  safely  said  that  mod- 
ern school  education  does  little  to  cultivate  this  which  is  not  merely 
so  essential  to  individual  success  in  present-day  society,  but  which  is 
also  a  fundamental  condition  of  human  progress. 

The  forces  of  education  fall  far  short  of  being  as  effective  for  prog- 
ress as  they  might  be.  They  are  adjusted  to-an  older  and  less  pro- 
gressive social  order.  Hence,  it  is  natural  that  it  should  lay  relatively 
great  emphasis  upon  discipline,  conformity  to  type,  adjustment  to  en- 
vironment, as  ends  in  themselves  instead  of  as  tools  to  the  attainment 
of  other  things. 

A  common  statement  of  the  end  of  education  as  social  efficiency 
attains  its  fullest  meaning  when  it  is  recognized  that  this  depends 
quite  largely  upon  the  development  of  individuality  and)  initiative 
in  the  school  child  under  the  guidance  of  social  ideals  and  in  connection 
with  daily  opportunities  for  social  service.  Of  course  an  uncontrolled 

development  of  these  qualities  would  be  a  social  curse  rather  than  a 

« 

1  To  say  that  the  object  of  education  is  to  adjust  the  child  to  a  progressive  society  is 
simply  another  way  of  saying  that  initiative  must  be  emphasized.  The  term  "adjust- 
ment" is  here  misleading  and  should  be  dropped. 


EDUCATION  AS  A  FACTOR  IN   SOCIAL  PROGRESS     229 

Dlessing.  We  no  longer  believe  in  the  unmitigated  doctrine  of  lais- 
sez-faire in  social  life.  The  greatest  good  for  the  group  is  not  attained 
DV  permitting  each  individual  to  cultivate  all  his  native  endowments 
of  initiative  for  himself  alone.  In  emphasizing  the  place  of  initiative 
in  the  education  of  a  progressive  society,  we  have  constantly  in  mind, 
then,  the  absolute  requirement  that  it  shall,  throughout,  be  dominated 
ideals  of  social  responsibility  and  social  service. 

REFERENCES   ON  EDUCATION  AND   SOCIAL   PROGRESS 

ADDAMS,  JANE.    Democracy  and  Social  Ethics,  Chapter  VI. 
CARLTON,  F.  T.    Education  and  Industrial  Evolution,  Chapter  IV. 

DEWEY,  JOHN.  The  School  and  Society.  Extracts  from,  reprinted  in 
this  chapter. 

ELIOT,  CHARLES.  The  Conflict  between  Collectivism  and  Individualism 
in  a  Democracy.  Chapter  II,  The  need  of  concerted  action 
on  the  part  of  educators  to  conserve  the  desirable  human  "sport." 

ELLWOOD,  CHARLES  A.  Sociology  and  Modern  Social  Problems, 
Chapter  XV.  "Education  and  social  progress."  .Definition  of 
social  progress.  Need  of  recognition  of  social  nature  of  education 
if  progress  is  to  be  furthered. 

JENKS,  JEREMIAH.  Citizenship  and  the  Schools.  Chapter  I,  Train- 
ing for  citizenship.  Chapter  II,  Social  basis  of  education. 

WARD,  LESTER.    Applied  Sociology,  Chapters  VIII-XII. 
—  Dynamic  Sociology,  Vol.  II,  Chapter  XIV. 


CHAPTER  XII 


EDUCATION  AND  SOCIAL  REFORM 


ar  as  \ 


WE  are  here  concerned  with  the  problem  of  social  reform  in  so  far 
it  can  be  dealt  with  by  educational  means,  and  from  one  point  of  view 
this  may  be  said  to  include  the  whole  problem.  The  reformation  of 
the  individual,  especially  the  youthful  individual,  is  more  and  more 
recognized  as  a  legitimate  task  for  education  in  its  larger  sense.  School- 
ing, in  other  words,  may  have  as  its  object,  not  merely  the  development 
and  instruction  of  the  normal  child,  it  may  also  succeed  to  a  most  sur- 
prising degree  in  making  over  the  victims  of  perverted  development. 
In  a  broad  sense,  all  agencies  of  social  reform  are  educational  agencies ; 
that  is,  they  are  all  concerned  with  effecting  changes  of  some  sort  in 
people.  The  betterment  of  the  individual  physically,  intellectually  or 
morally  is  the  starting  point  for  all  social  improvement. 

The  educational  agencies  which  make  for  reform,  if  they  are  com- 
pletely enumerated,  are  of  the  most  diverse  character,  and  they  may 
be  directed  toward  the  most  diverse  classes  of  people.  Among  these 
educational  agencies  must  be  included  such  activities  as  campaigns 
for  parks  and  playgrounds,  for  school  gardens,  for  medical  inspection 
of  schools  and  scholars,  and  even  the  various  activities  directed  toward 
social  amelioration  in  general.  These,  also,  are  educational  in  some 
sense.  They  aim  primarily  to  effect  changes  in  the  attitudes  and  opin- 
ions of  people,  usually  adults.  Their  imagination  has  to  be  quickened 
as  to  existing  abuses  ;  their  ideas  have  to  be  clarified  ;  their  consciences 
may  need  to  be  developed.  All  such  undertakings  are,  therefore,  es- 
sentially educational  in  their  nature,  even  though  they  lie  outside  the 
work  of  the  school  as  such.  More  and  more  is  it  seen  that  social  re- 
forms of  every  type  must  depend  for  their  success  upon  an  antecedent 
education  of  a  portion  of  the  people  concerned  that  they  may  really 
demand  the  reform  suggested. 

In  this  section,  however,  we  may  confine  ourselves  to  a  narrower 

230 


EDUCATION  AND  SOCIAL  REFORM 


231 


aspect  of  education  and  social  reform,  that  which  is  concerned  with  the 
delinquent  child.  The  proper  care  of  the  delinquent  child  is  a  ques- 
tion which  belongs  to  the  social  aspects  of  education  in  a  twofold  de- 
gree :  First,  the  end  to  be  attained  through  caring  for  the  delinquent 
is  social  betterment  through  diminishing  the  number  of  individuals  in 
each  generation  with  criminal  or  anti-social  tendencies ;  secondly,  the 
means  to  this  end  is  largely  a  more  thoroughly  socialized  form  of  edu- 
cation than  that  which  prevails  for  normal  children.  It  is  with  this 
latter  aspect,  the  means ,  that  we  are  here  especially  concerned. 

Broadly  speaking,  the  reform  of  the  delinquent  child  depends  in 
most  cases  upon  two  factors  —  first,  the  removal  or  the  correction  of 
physical  defects,  and  secondly,  upon  placing  him  in  a  thoroughly  normal 
and  healthful  social  environment  which  will  stimulate  growth  in  the 
right  directions.  Restraints  and  punishments  of  various  sorts,  neces- 
sary though  they  may  be  at  times,  are  purely  incidental  and  tem- 
porary, and  are  not  to  be  regarded  as  far-reaching  and  generally  valu- 
able means  of  improving  character. 

The  successful  workers  with  juvenile  delinquents  quite  properly 
assume  that  such  boys  and  girls  are  usually  not  really  "bad,"  but  are 
rather  on  the  road  to  badness  through  unfavorable  conditions,  either 
physical  or  social.  Regarding  unfavorable  physical  conditions,  the 
words  of  the  Superintendent  of  the  Lyman  School,  Massachusetts,  are 
significant :  "I  am  coming  to  believe  that  much  delinquency  is  due  to 
low  vitality  that  may  be  caused  by  various  organic  difficulties.  In  the 
future,  I  am  convinced  that  the  medical  and  physical  side  of  the  work 
should  be  more  and  more  emphasized.  I  attach  much  importance  to 
the  work  of  the  physician  in  removing  tonsils  and  adenoids,  in  giving 
a  careful  examination  of  the  eyes  and  ears,  and  in  giving  especial  care 
to  any  manifested  organic  troubles,  such  as  the  difficulties  of  the  heart, 
ungs,  and  digestive  organs.  The  work  of  the  dentist  [also]  cannot 
be  too  highly  recognized."  *  This  attention  to  the  physical  condition 
of  even  the  normal  child  is  to-day  regarded  as  a  legitimate  part  of  the 
work  of  the  school,  and  it  may  thus  be  included  among  the  ways  in 
which  the  school  may  make  for  social  reform. 

Delinquency  is  not,  however,  connected  solely  with  physical  defects, 
and,  whether  it  is  or  not,  it  at  least  shows  itself  in  some  form  of  mal- 

1  Sixteenth  Annual  Report,  1910,  p.  28. 


232  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

adjustment  to  social  conditions.  It  is  here  that  the  second  phase  of 
the  problem  appears,  and  it  is  one  of  the  serious  problems  of  all  civilized 
peoples.  Adult  civilized  society,  even  at  its  best,  presents  many  con- 
ditions which  are  unfavorable  to  the  normal  development  of  boys  and 
girls.  Such  society,  in  its  worse  phases,  is,  of  course,  still  more  detri- 
mental to  normal  growth.  Most  boys  and  girls  are  born  with  certain 
propensities  or  impulses  to  activity  of  various  sorts,  which  are  quite 
healthful  and  upon  the  satisfaction  of  which  normal  growth  depends. 
Among  these  are  love  of  physical  activity,  of  adventure,  curiosity,  and 
comradeship.  These  impulses  and  many  others  may  be  summarized 
in  the  phrase  "superabundance  of  spirits. "  Every  student  of  child 
life  knows  that  these  spirits  are  the  raw  material  of  character,  and  that 
they  must  have  adequate  and  legitimate  means  of  expression.  Now 
it  is  certain  that,  with  the  increasing  urbanization  of  the  population,  the 
opportunities  for  the  normal  expression  of  childhood  impulses  are  pro- 
gressively diminished,  and  this  is  true  in  even  the  best  social  commu- 
nities. The  interests  of  child  and  adult  are  different,  and  when  these 
interests  clash,  for  example,  on  the  question  of  who  may  use  the  streets, 
the  child  usually  has  to  give  way  to  the  adult.  The  outcome  is  almost 
inevitable ;  namely,  perverted  or  exaggerated  expression  of  impulses. 

Thus  the  boy  of  well-to-do  parents  in  the  city  seldom  has  sufficient 
opportunity  for  all  the  free,  vigorous  play  which  he  needs.  He  can 
seldom  go  out  in  quest  of  the  adventure  he  craves  without  infringing 
upon  some  social  conventionality  of  adulthood.  To  make  matters 
worse,  he  has  little  regular  work  outside  of  school,  and  even  that  may 
engage  his  energies  only  indifferently.  Interest  in  work  and  a  definite 
responsibility  for  something  worth  while  to  himself  and  to  others  are 
important  factors  in  restraining  the  adult  from  immorality.  The 
social  demands  made  upon  the  boy  usually  lack  these  very  character- 
forming  elements.  Society  expects  the  boy  to  "just  grow,"  failing  to 
see  that  there  are  certain  conditions  of  growth  which  are  absolutely 
essential,  and  that  society  must  furnish  these  conditions. 

There  are  two  general  ways  of  offsetting  the  unnatural  conditions  of 
child  life  which  modern  society  tends  to  develop.  On  the  one  hand, 
adequate  opportunities  for  play  and  healthful  work  must  be  furnished 
to  the  city  boy.  This  is  to-day  accomplished  more  and  more  through 
the  supervised  public  playground  and  the  school  garden.  Through 


EDUCATION  AND  SOCIAL  REFORM  233 

such  means  the  normal  boy  is  kept  sound,  and  the  delinquent  boy  is 
frequently  restored  to  soundness.  The  juvenile  court  supplements 
the  work  of  the  playground  and  of  the  school  garden  by  giving  the  sup- 
)osedly  bad  child  a  fairer  chance. 

In  the  second  place,  the  delinquent  child  may  be  transferred  to  an 
environment  especially  adjusted  to  his  needs,  to  a  school,  for  example, 
where  he  can  be  subjected  to  those  needful  influences  which  were  lack- 
ng  in  his  home  environment.  In  general,  these  schools  probably  pre- 
>ent  exaggerated  conditions  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  normal  child. 
In  the  Junior  Republic,  for  instance,  great  stress  is  placed  upon  work, 
and  each  youth  is  completely  responsible  for  his  own  economic  support. 
I  the  delinquent  boy  is  physically  sound  (as  he  must  be  if  admitted  to 
the  Junior  Republic)  there  is  nothing  which  will  straighten  him  out 
more  effectively  or  speedily  than  just  such  responsibility.  The  ref  orma- 
ory  influence  of  work,  of  economic  interests  and  of  corporate  responsi- 
)ility  as  illustrated  in  this  school  should  receive  the  .careful  attention 
)f  the  student  at  this  point. 

It  should  also  be  noted  that  it  is  not  only  work  and  responsibility 
hat  the  youth  needs,  but  also  the  right  sort  of  restraining  public  opin- 
on  and  the  right  sort  of  social  ideals.  The  possibility  of  building  up 
such  a  social  atmosphere  and  its  character-forming  power  are  ad- 
mirably illustrated  in  the  work  of  the  Junior  Republic.  Whatever  the 
limitations  in  the  scope  of  this  school,  —  and  it  is  confessedly  not  adapted 
to  all  types  of  delinquents, — it  is  at  least  a  fine  illustration  of  the  de- 
pendence of  reform  upon  an  adjustment  of  social  relationships.  Aside 
rom  the  correction  of  physical  defects,  it  would  seem  that  the  problem 
)f  reforming  the  wayward  child  is  really  a  problem  of  reforming  social 
conditions  so  that  his  normal  self  may  have  a  chance  to  develop. 

REFERENCES 

ADDAMS,  JANE.     "Public  recreation  and  social  morality,"  Char.,  18: 
492. 

BENSON,  W.  E.     "  Manual  training  as  a  preventative  of  delinquency 
among  colored  children,"  N.C.C.C.,  1904,  pp.  257-268. 

BERGEN,  C.  McP.     "Relation  of  play  to  juvenile  delinquency,"  Char.j 
18:562. 


234  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

Boston  Children's  Aid  Society,  Reports.  43-46  Charity  Building, 
Boston. 

BURNS,  ALLEN.     "Relation  of  playgrounds  to  juvenile  delinquency."  | 
Reprinted  from  The  Proceedings  of  the  Second  Annual  Playground 
Association,  New  York. 

Children's  Aid  Society  of  Pennsylvania,  Reports.  1506  Arch  St., 
Philadelphia. 

DEBOLT,  MRS.  L.  N.  "  Industrial  employment  as  a  factor  in  the 
reformation  of  girls,"  N.C.C.C.,  1900,  210-220.  Girls  taught 
habits  of  order,  promptness,  and  health ;  acquire  self-control, 
self-repect,  and  ambition  through  industrial  training. 

"Discipline  and  management  of  juvenile  reformatories,"  Char.  Rev., 
9  : 436-450.  1899.  A  helpful  and  valuable  census  of  opinion. 

GEORGE,  W.  R.  The  Junior  Republic.  1909.  A  stimulating,  sug- 
gestive account  of  an  important  enterprise. 

GUNKEL,  J.  E.  Boyville,  a  History  of  Fifteen  Years'  Work  among  Boys. 
Toledo,  1905.  Reform  through  social  organization  and  wise 
leadership. 

HARCOURT,  CHAS.  "Reform  for  the  truant  boy  in  industrial  train- 
ing and  farming,"  Craftsman,  15  :  436.  Secret  of  success  is  in  the 
boy's  being  kept  busy. 

HELLER,  MRS.  H.  H.     "The  playground  as  a  phase  of  social  reform." 

Reprinted  from  The  Proceedings  of  the  Second  Annual  Playground 

Association. 
HENDERSON,  C.  R.     Modern  Methods  of  Charity,  1904.     Brief  accounts 

of  preventative  and  reformatory  measures  in  the  United  States 

and  other  countries. 
Industrial  School  for  Boys  of  Wavkesha,  Wisconsin,  Reports. 

KINGSLEY,  SHERMAN  C.  "The  substitution  of  family  care  for  in- 
stitutional care  for  children,"  Proceedings  of  the  Second  New 
Jersey  Conference  of  Charities  and  Corrections.  1903.  Reprinted 
by  the  Boston  Children's  Aid  Society.  1910. 

LEE,    JOSEPH.     Constructive    and    Preventive    Philanthropy.     1902. 
Broad  in  scope,  includes  the  home,  vacation  schools,  baths,  play- 
grounds, outings,  boys'  clubs,  industrial  training. 

LINDSEY,  B.  B.     "  Childhood  and  morality,"  N.E.A.,  1909,  p.  147. 

"Reformation  of  the  juvenile  delinquents  through  the  juvenile 

courts,"  N.C.C.C.  1903. 

Lyman  and  Industrial  Schools,  Reports  Massachusetts  Public  Docu- 
ments. 


EDUCATION  AND   SOCIAL  REFORM  235 

MANGOLD,  G.  B.  "The  delinquent  child,"  Bk.  IV  of  Child  Problems. 
New  York,  1910. 

MORRISON,  W.  D.    Juvenile  Offenders.    New  York,  1897. 

New  York's  Juvenile  Reformatories,  Char.,  12  :  621-630.  1904.  Arti- 
cles on  New  York  State  Training  School  for  Girls  at  Hudson,  In- 
dustrial School  at  Rochester,  House  of  Refuge  at  Randall's  Island, 
and  Reformatory  at  Hart's  Island. 

NIBECKER,  F.  H.  "  Essential  work  of  a  juvenile  reformatory,"  Char. 
Rev.,  9  :  450-452.  1899.  Shows  that  it  is  purely  educational  and 
should  not  be  cut  short  before  full  results  have  been  attained. 

REEDER,  RUDOLPH.  How  Two  Hundred  Children  Live  and  Learn. 
New  York,  1909.  Gives  many  interesting  sidelights  on  proper 
methods  of  reform  through  education. 

Rhode  Island,  Reports  of  Board  of  State  Charities  and  Corrections. 
Providence. 

RICHMAN,  JULIA.  "Incorrigible  child,"  Ed.  Rev.,  31 :  484-506.  1906. 
Discusses  the  truancy  problem  and  shows  the  methods  of  influence 
employed  in  a  New  York  truant  school.  Points  out  the  proper 
attitude  of  the  teacher  toward  the  misdemeanant. 

SNEDDEN,  D.  S.  "Public  school  and  juvenile  delinquency,"  Ed.  Rev., 
33  :  374~385-  190?-  Believes  that  the  scope  of  the  public  school 
system  should  be  enlarged  so  as  to  include  all  children  of  school  age. 
Mentions  points  in  which  public  schools  and  reform  schools  may 
profit  by  each  other's  experience. 

Administration   and   Educational   Work    of  American  Juvenile 

Reform  Schools.    New  York,  1907. 

SPAULDING,  W.  F.  Delinquent  and  Wayward  Children.  The  new 
Massachusetts  methods  of  treatment.  The  law  of  1906,  together 
with  an  analysis  of  new  legislation.  The  law  establishing  the 
Boston  Juvenile  Court.  Pamphlet.  32  Brattle  St.,  Cambridge. 
1907. 

"Modern   juvenile  court   and  its  probation    system,"    Mass. 
Prison  Assoc.,  No.  26.     Concord,  N.H.     1909. 

-"Possibilities  of  Probation  System."  Published  by  the  Mass. 
Prison  Assoc.  1908. 

TRAVIS,  THOMAS.  The  Young  Malefactor.  New  York,  1908.  A 
study  in  juvenile  delinquency. 

ZUEBLIN,  CHARLES.  "Public  recreation,"  in  American  Municipal 
Progress,  1902,  pp.  276-301.  Describes  the  establishment  of 
playgrounds,  baths,  recreation  piers,  in  various  cities,  and  a  sum- 
mer camp  for  Boston  boys. 


PART   II 
INTERNAL  SOCIAL  ASPECTS   OF   EDUCATION 

CHAPTER  XIII 

THE   GENERAL   NATURE   OF   SOCIAL   LIFE 

The  General  Nature  of  Social  Life 

EDUCATION  is  in  a  double  sense,  as  we  have  seen,  a  social  process. 
We  have  thus  far  devoted  ourselves  to  its  larger  or  external  relations. 
We  have  regarded  it  as  one  of  the  special  functions  of  the  great  social 
complex  in  which  it  exists.  We  turn  now  to  what  may  be  called  its 
internal  social  aspects,  those  aspects  which  grow  out  of  the  fact  that 
the  school  is  itself  a  little  society.  This  corporate  life  of  the  school 
has  definite  and  important  bearings  upon  the  process  of  learning,  both 
in  its  particular  and  in  its  general  aspects.  In  this  section  we  shall 
consider,  however,  not  merely  the  social  life  of  the  school  and  its  bear- 
ings upon  education,  but  certain  aspects  of  the  larger  problem  of  the 
relation  of  society  to  the  individual. 

It  is  important,  before  attempting  to  study  the  educational  phases, 
to  have  some  general  understanding  of  the  nature  of  social  life  itself. 

Human  society  is  not  composed  of  individuals  merely  massed  to- 
gether as  shot  or  pebbles  may  be  piled  up.  It  is  a  peculiarly  intricate 
organization,  and  people  are  what  they  are  because  they  were  born 
into  this  organization  and-have  grown  up  in  it.  Only  in  recent  times 
has  there  been  any  appreciation  of  what  society  really  is  or  how  the 
individual  person  is  related  to  it.  When  philosophers  first  began  to 
think  of  these  things,  they  tended  to  regard  the  human  being  as  first 
of  all  an  independent  individual  and  of  social  relations  as  an  after- 
thought, an  expedient  imposed  upon  men  who  were  originally  free 
from  all  such  restraints.  Thus  Hobbes  and  Rousseau  conceived  of 

216 


THE   GENERAL  NATURE  OF  SOCIAL  LIFE  237 

ociety  as  a  voluntary  compact  into  which  men  entered  for  mutual 
•rotection.  The  happiest  state  was  that  in  which  each  lived  to  him- 
elf  alone,  absolutely  unfettered  by  social  bonds  of  any  sort.  But 
men  were  inevitably  thrown  together,  and  society  represents  the  out- 
ome  of  a  conscious  attempt  of  people  to  adjust  themselves  to  one 
,nother.  It  has  involved  also  the  voluntary  surrender  of  many  natu- 
al  privileges  or  rights  for  the  sake  of  the  advantages  of  combined 
,ction  in  offense  and  defense. 

In  time  it  was  seen  by  social  philosophers  that  the  voluntary  con- 
ract  theory  did  not  accurately  describe  the  facts.  Society  is  an  in- 
tinctive  affair  extending  far  back  into  the  lower  stages  of  animal  life. 
Men  have  probably  never  lived  alone,  but  rather  always  in  groups, 
"he  fundamental  traits  of  human  personality  have  been  developed, 
r  built  up,  through  human  association,  not  in  some  supposedly  prior 
ndividualistic  state  of  being.  Hence,  man  is  fundamentally  a  social 
eing.  Every  shred  and  fiber  of  his  being  is  a  resultant  of  his  manifold 
nd  subtle  relations  with  other  people.  He  is  not  part  individual  and 
art  social  in  his  nature,  he  is  rather  all  social.  Hence,  he  has  not, 
s  a  member  of  society,  had  to  give  up  or  suppress  purely  individual- 
stic  impulses.  The  contrast  is  not  between  the  individual  and  so- 
ciety but  between  different  kinds  of  society,  different  sorts  of  social 
impulses. 

The  theory  that  society  is  a  conscious  compact  made  between  those 
pho  were  naturally  individualistic  or  antisocial  thus  gave  way  to  the 
leory  of  society  as  an  organism  after  the  analogy  of  the  biological 
rganism,  the  individuals  corresponding  to  the  cells  of  the  animal 
ody,  and  the  various  social  functions  of  protection,  production, 
istribution  and  so  forth,  corresponding  to  such  physiological  func- 
ions  as  seeing,  eating,  digestion,  circulation  and  respiration.  This 
omparison  of  society  to  an  organism  is  not  without  significance.  It 

certainly  truer  to  some  facts  than  was  the  "  contract  theory."  It 
oes,  however,  to  the  opposite  extreme,  and  through  the  analogy  of  the 
elation  of  the  single  cell  to  the  whole  animal  body  completely  subor- 
inates  the  individual  to  society.  To  hold  that  each  individual  is 
tirough  and  through  a  social  being  is  not  equivalent  to  saying  that  he 
as  no  worth  of  his  own  as  an  individual.  He  has  a  personal  life  quite 
ther  than  that  of  the  single  cell,  even  though  that  life  is  formed  by 


238  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

mutual  action  and  reaction  with  other  human  beings.  In  other  words, 
individuality  is  quite  as  real  a  fact  as  society;  in  no  sense  can  we  con- 
sider it  as  finally  subordinate  to  a  larger  life  in  the  way  that  the  cell 
is  subordinate  to  the  life  of  the  animal.  These  considerations  have 
led  to  a  still  different  conception;  namely,  that  it  is  an  organization 
rather  than  an  organism.  It  is  an  organization  of  individuals  inti- 
mately bound  together  in  all  they  think  and  do  and  yet  each  possessed 
of  a  life  of  his  own.  No  individual  exists  merely  for  the  good  of  so- 
ciety. Each  one  has  his  own  desires  and  purposes  that  demand  satis- 
faction. They  demand  satisfaction,  however,  not  as  purely  separate 
affairs,  but  in  organic  relation  with  the  desires  and  purposes  of  other 
people. 

It  is  not  here  our  purpose,  however,  to  enter  into  a  detailed  study 
of  social  processes  nor  of  the  relation  of  the  individual  to  society,  but 
rather  to  get  clearly  defined  the  meaning  of  social  or  corporate  life  as  a 
basis  for  the  study  of  the  social  life  of  the  school.  The  best  illustra- 
tions of  true  corporate  life  are  to  be  found  in  relatively  small  groups 
of  people.  These  "  primary  groups  "  as  Cooley  calls  them  are  the 
real  units  of  society.  In  them  we  find  the  most  adequate  expression 
of  human  association.  Inasmuch  as  a  full  appreciation  of  the  nature 
of  the  life  of  the  primary  group  is  fundamental  to  the  study  of  the  social 
life  of  the  school,  extracts  from  Cooley's  admirable  discussion  in  his 
Social  Organization  are  here  reprinted.  The  student's  first  endeavor 
should  be  to  gain  a  clear  concept  of  the  "  primary  groups  "  as  actual 
existences  in  which  he  daily  participates.  He  should  find  many 
examples  of  his  own  to  illustrate  the  points  made  in  the  discussion. 

Primary  Groups  and  Primary  Ideals 

By  primary  groups  I  mean  those  characterized  by  intimate  face-to- 
face  association  and  cooperation.  They  are  primary  in  several  senses, 
but  chiefly  in  that  they  are  fundamental  in  forming  the  social  nature 
and  ideals  of  the  individual.  The  result  of  intimate  association, 
psychologically,  is  a  certain  fusion  of  individuals  in  a  common  whole, 
so  that  one's  very  self,  for  many  purposes  at  least,  is  the  common  life 
and  purpose  of  the  group.  Perhaps  the  simplest  way  of  describing 
this  wholeness  is  by  saying  that  it  is  a  "  we  " ;  it  involves  the  sort  of 
sympathy  and  mutual  identification  for  which  "  we  "  is  the  natural 


THE   GENERAL  NATURE  OF   SOCIAL  LIFE  239 

expression.     One  lives  in  the  feeling  of  the  whole  and  finds  the  chief 
aims  of  his  will  in  that  feeling. 

It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  the  unity  of  the  primary  group  is  one 
of  mere  harmony  and  love.  It  is  always  a  differentiated  and  usually 
a  competitive  unity,  admitting  of  self-assertion  and  various  appro- 
priative  passions ;  but  these  passions  are  socialized  by  sympathy,  and 
come,  or  tend  to  come,  under  the  discipline  of  a  common  spirit.  The 
individual  will  be  ambitious,  but  the  chief  object  of  his  ambition  will 
be  some  desired  place  in  the  thought  of  the  others,  and  he  will  feel 
allegiance  to  common  standards  of  service  and  fair  play.  So  the  boy 
will  dispute  with  his  fellows  a  place  on  the  team,  but  above  such  dis- 
putes will  place  the  common  glory  of  his  class  and  school. 

The  most  important  spheres  of  this  intimate  association  and  co- 
operation—  though  by  no  means  the  only  ones — are  the  family,  the 
play  group  of  children,  and  the  neighborhood  or  community  group  of 
elders.  These  are  practically  universal,  belonging  to  all  times  and 
all  stages  of  development,  and  are  accordingly  a  chief  basis  of  what  is 
universal  in  human  nature  and  human  ideals.  The  best  comparative 
studies  of  the  family,  such  as  those  of  Westermarck  or  Howard,  show 
it  to  us  as  not  only  a  universal  institution,  but  as  more  alike  the 
world  over  than  the  exaggeration  of  exceptional  customs  by  an  earlier 
school  had  led  us  to  suppose.  Nor  can  any  one  doubt  the  general 
prevalence  of  play  groups  among  children  or  of  informal  assemblies 
of  various  kinds  among  their  elders.  Such  association  is  clearly  the 
nursery  of  human  nature  in  the  world  about  us,  and  there  is  no  ap- 
parent reason  to  suppose  that  the  case  has  anywhere  or  at  any  time 
been  essentially  different. 

As  regards  play,  I  might,  were  it  not  a  matter  of  common  observa- 
tion, multiply  illustrations  of  the  universality  and  spontaneity  of  the 
group  discussion  and  cooperation  to  which  it  gives  rise.  The  general 
fact  is  that  children,  especially  boys  after  about  their  twelfth  year, 
1  live  in  fellowships  in  which  their  sympathy,  ambition  and  honor  are 
engaged  even  more,  often,  than  they  are  in  the  family.  Most  of  us  can 
(recall  examples  of  the  endurance  by  boys  of  injustice  and  even  cruelty, 
ither  than  appeal  from  their  fellows  to  parents  or  teachers  —  as,  for 
istance,  in  the  hazing  so  prevalent  at  schools,  and  so  difficult,  for 
is  very  reason,  to  repress.  And  how  elaborate  the  discussion,  how 
)gent  the  public  opinion,  how  hot  the  ambitions  in  these  fellowships. 
Nor  is  this  facility  of  juvenile  association,  as  is  sometimes  supposed, 
trait  peculiar  to  English  and  American  boys  ;  since  experience  among 
>ur  immigrant  population  seems  to  show  that  the  offspring  of  the 
lore  restrictive  civilizations  of  the  continent  of  Europe  form  self- 
yverning  play  groups  with  almost  equal  readiness.  Thus  Miss  Jane 
Lddams,  after  pointing  out  that  the  "  gang  "  is  almost  universal, 


240  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

speaks  of  the  interminable  discussion  which  every  detail  of  the  gang's 
activity  receives,  remarking  that "  in  these  social  folk-motes,  so  to  speak, 
the  young  citizen  learns  to  act  upon  his  own  determination." 

Of  the  neighborhood  group  it  may  be  said,  in  general,  that  from  the 
time  men  formed  permanent  settlements  upon  the  land,  down,  at  least, 
to  the  rise  of  modern  industrial  cities,  it  has  played  a  main  part  in  the 
primary,  heart-to-heart  life  of  the  people.  Among  our  Teutonic  fore- 
fathers the  village  community  was  apparently  the  chief  sphere  of 
sympathy  and  mutual  aid  for  the  commons  all  through  the  "  dark  " 
and  middle  ages,  and  for  many  purposes  it  remains  so  in  rural  districts 
at  the  present  day.  In  some  countries  we  still  find  it  with  all  its  ancient 
vitality,  notably  in  Russia,  where  the  mir,  or  self-governing  village 
group,  is  the  main  theater  of  life,  along  with  the  family,  for  perhaps 
fifty  millions  of  peasants. 

In  our  own  life  the  intimacy  of  the  neighborhood  has  been  broken 
up  by  the  growth  of  the  intricate  mesh  of  wider  contacts  which  leaves 
us  strangers  to  people  who  live  in  the  same  house.  And  even  in  the 
country  the  same  principle  is  at  work,  though  less  obviously,  diminish- 
ing our  economic  and  spiritual  community  with  our  neighbors.  How 
far  this  change  is  a  healthy  development,  and  how  far  a  disease,  is 
perhaps  still  uncertain. 

Besides  these  almost  universal  kinds  of  primary  association,  there 
are  many  others  whose  form  depends  upon  the  particular  state  of 
civilization,  the  only  essential  thing,  as  I  have  said,  being  a  certain 
intimacy  and  fusion  of  personalities.  In  our  own  society,  being  little 
bound  by  place,  people  easily  form  clubs,  fraternal  societies  and  the 
like,  based  on  congeniality,  which  may  give  rise  to  real  intimacy. 
Many  such  relations  are  formed  at  school  and  college,  and  among  men 
and  women  brought  together  in  the  first  instance  by  their  occupations 
—  as  workmen  in  the  same  trade,  or  the  like.  Where  there  is  a 
little  common  interest  and  activity,  kindness  grows  like  weeds  by  the 
roadside. 

But  the  fact  that  the  family  and  neighborhood  groups  are  ascendant 
in  the  open  and  plastic  time  of  childhood  makes  them  even  now  incom- 
parably more  influential  than  all  the  rest. 

Primary  groups  are  primary  in  the  sense  that  they  give  the  indi- 
vidual the  earliest  and  completest  experience  of  social  unity,  and  also 
in  the  sense  that  they  do  not  change  in  the  same  degree  as  more  elabo- 
rate relations,  but  form  a  comparatively  permanent  source  out  of 
which  the  latter  are  ever  springing.  Of  course  they  are  not  indepen- 
dent of  the  larger  society,  but  to  some  extent  reflect  its  spirit ;  as  the 
German  family  and  the  German  school  bear  somewhat  distinctly  the 
print  of  German  militarism.  But  this,  after  all,  is  like  the  tide  setting 
back  into  creeks,  and  does  not  commonly  go  very  far.  Among  the 


THE   GENERAL  NATURE  OF  SOCIAL  LIFE 


241 


German,  and  still  more  among  the  Russian,  peasantry  are  found 
habits  of  free  cooperation  and  discussion  almost  uninfluenced  by  the 
character  of  the  state ;  and  it  is  a  familiar  and  well-supported  view 
that  the  village  commune,  self-governing  as  regards  local  affairs  and 
habituated  to  discussion,  is  a  very  widespread  institution  in  settled 
communities,  and  the  continuator  of  a  similar  autonomy  previously 
existing  in  the  clan.  "  It  is  man  who  makes  monarchies  and  estab- 
lishes republics,  but  the  commune  seems  to  come  directly  from  the 
hand  of  God."  .  .  . 

These  groups,  then,  are  springs  of  life,  not  only  for  the  individual 
but  for  social  institutions.  They  are  only  in  part  molded  by  special 
traditions,  and,  in  larger  degree,  express  a  universal  nature.  The  re- 
ligion or  government  of  other  civilizations  may  seem  alien  to  us,  but 
the  children  or  the  family  group  wear  the  common  life,  and  with  them 
we  can  always  make  ourselves  at  home.  .  .  . 

The  view  here  maintained  is  that  human  nature  is  not  something 
existing  separately  in  the  individual,  but  a  group  nature  or  primary 
phase  of  society,  a  relatively  simple  and  general  condition  of  the  social 
mind.  It  is  something  more,  on  the  one  hand,  than  the  mere  instinct 
that  is  born  in  us  —  though  that  enters  into  it  —  and  something  less, 
on  the  other,  than  the  more  elaborate  development  of  ideas  and  senti- 
ments that  makes  up  institutions.  It  is  the  nature  which  is  de- 
veloped and  expressed  in  those  simple,  face-to-face  groups  that  are 
somewhat  alike  in  all  societies ;  groups  of  the  family,  the  playground 
and  the  neighborhood.  In  the  essential  similarity  of  these  is  to  be 
found  the  basis,  in  experience,  for  similar  ideas  and  sentiments  in  the 
human  mind.  In  these,  everywhere,  human  nature  comes  into  exist- 
|ence.  Man  does  not  have  it  at  birth,  he  cannot  acquire  it  except 
[through  fellowship,  and  it  decays  in  isolation.  .  .  . 

Life  in  the  primary  groups  gives  rise  to  social  ideals  which,  as  they 
'spring  from  similar  experiences,  have  much  in  common  throughout 
|the  human  race.  And  these  naturally  become  the  motive  and  test  of  so- 
:  pal  progress.  Under  all  systems  men  strive,  however  blindly,  to  realize 
objects  suggested  by  the  familiar  experience  of  primary  association. 

Where  do  we  get  our  notions  of  love,  freedom,  justice  and  the  like 
^vhich  we  are  ever  applying  to  social  institutions  ?  Not  from  abstract 
[philosophy,  surely,  but  from  the  actual  life  of  simple  and  widespread 
i  Forms  of  society,  like  the  family  or  the  play  group.  In  these  relations 
6  mankind  realizes  itself,  gratifies  its  primary  needs,  in  a  fairly  satis- 
factory manner,  and  from  the  experience  forms  standards  of  what  it  is 
:o  expect  from  more  elaborate  association.  Since  groups  of  this  sort 
ire  never  obliterated  from  human  experience,  but  flourish  more  or 
ess  under  all  kinds  of  institutions,  they  remain  an  enduring  criterion 
if  by  which  the  latter  are  ultimately  judged. 


242  SOCIAL  ASPECTS   OF  EDUCATION 

Of  course  these  simpler  relations  are  not  uniform  for  all  societies, 
but  vary  considerably  with  race,  with  the  general  state  of  civilization 
and  with  the  particular  sort  of  institutions  that  may  prevail.  The 
primary  groups  themselves  are  subject  to  improvement  and  decay, 
and  need  to  be  watched  and  cherished  with  a  very  special  care. 

Neither  is  it  claimed  that,  at  the  best,  they  realize  ideal  conditions ; 
only  that  they  approach  them  more  nearly  than  anything  else  in 
general  experience,  and  so  form  the  practical  basis  on  which  higher 
imaginations  are  built.  They  are  not  always  pleasant  or  righteous, 
but  they  almost  always  contain  elements  from  which  ideals  of  pleasant- 
ness and  righteousness  may  be  formed. 

The  ideal  that  grows  up  in  familiar  association  may  be  said  to  be 
a  part  of  human  nature  itself.  In  its  most  general  form  it  is  that  of 
a  moral  whole  or  community  wherein  individual  minds  are  merged 
and  the  higher  capacities  of  the  members  find  total  and  adequate 
expression.  And  it  grows  up  because  familiar  association  fills  our 
minds  with  imaginations  of  the  thought  and  feeling  of  other  members 
of  the  group,  and  of  the  group  as  a  whole,  so  that,  for  many  purposes, 
we  really  make  them  a  part  of  ourselves  and  identify  our  self-feeling 
with  them. 

Children  and  savages  do  not  formulate  any  such  ideal,  but  they 
have  it  nevertheless ;  they  see  it ;  they  see  themselves  and  their  fellows 
as  an  invisible  though  various  "  we,"  and  they  desire  this  "  we  r 
to  be  harmonious,  happy  and  successful.  How  heartily  one  may 
merge  himself  in  the  family  and  in  the  fellowships  of  youth  is  perhaps 
within  the  experience  of  all  of  us ;  and  we  come  to  feel  that  the  same 
spirit  should  extend  to  our  country,  our  race,  our  world.  "  All  the 
abuses  which  are  the  objects  of  reform  .  .  .  are  unconsciously  amendec 
in  the  intercourse  of  friends." 

A  congenial  family  is  the  immemorial  type  of  moral  unity,  and  source 
of  many  of  the  terms  —  such  as  brotherhood,  kindness  and  the  like  — 
which  describe  it.  The  members  become  merged  by  intimate  associa- 
tion into  a  whole  wherein  each  age  and  sex  participates  in  its  own  way 
Each  lives  in  imaginative  contact  with  the  minds  of  the  others,  and  findb 
in  them  the  dwelling  place  of  his  social  self,  of  his  affections,  ambitions 
resentments  and  standards  of  right  and  wrong.  Without  uniformity 
there  is  yet  unity,  a  free,  pleasant,  wholesome,  fruitful,  common  life. 

As  to  the  playground,  Mr.  Joseph  Lee,  in  an  excellent  paper 
"  Play  as  a  School  of  the  Citizen,"  gives  the  following  account  of 
merging  of  the  one  in  the  whole  that  may  be  learned  from  sport, 
boy,  he  says,  "  is  deeply  participating  in  a  common  purpose.     The  te 
and  the  plays  that  it  executes  are  present  in  a  very  vivid  manner 
his  consciousness.     His  conscious  individuality  is  more   thorough 
lost  in  the  sense  of  membership  than  perhaps  it  ever  becomes  in 


THE   GENERAL  NATURE  OF   SOCIAL  LIFE 


243 


other  way.     So  that  the  sheer  experience  of  citizenship  in  its  simplest 
and  essential  form  —  of  the  sharing  in  a  public  consciousness,  of  having 
the  social  organization  present  as  a  controlling  ideal  in  your  heart  - 
is  very  intense.  .  .  . 

'  "  Along  with  the  sense  of  the  team  as  a  mechanical  instrument, 
unseparated  from  it  in  the  boy's  mind,  is  the  consciousness  of  it  as 
the  embodiment  of  a  common  purpose.  There  is  in  team  play  a 
very  intimate  experience  of  the  ways  in  which  such  a  purpose  is  built 
up  and  made  effective.  You  feel,  though  without  analysis,  the  subtle 
ways  in  which  a  strong  character  breaks  out  the  road  ahead  and  gives 
confidence  to  the  rest  to  follow ;  how  the  creative  power  of  one  ardent 
imagination,  bravely  sustained,  makes  possible  the  putting  through  of 

I  the  play  as  he  conceives  it.     You  feel  to  the  marrow  of  your  bones 
[how  each  loyal  member  contributes  to  the  salvation  of  all  the  others 
jby  holding  the  conception  of  the  whole  play  so  firmly  in  his  mind  as 
Ito  enable  them  to  hold  it,  and  to  participate  in  his  single-minded  de- 
termination to  see  it  carried  out.     You  have  intimate  experience  of 
Ithe  ways  in  which  individual  members  contribute  to  the  team  and 
lof  how  the  team,  in  turn,  builds  up  their  spiritual  nature.  .  .  . 

"  And  the  team  is  not  only  an  extension  of  the  player's  consciousness  ; 
It  is  a  part  of  his  personality.  His  participation  has  deepened  from 
Hcooperation  to  membership.  Not  only  is  he  now  a  part  of  the  team, 
fcut  the  team  is  a  part  of  him." 

Moral  unity,  as  this  illustration  implies,  admits  and  rewards  strenu- 
Inis  ambition,  but  this  ambition  must  either  be  for  the  success  of  the 
fcroup,  or  at  least  not  inconsistent  with  that.  The  fullest  self-realiza- 
Eon  will  belong  to  the  one  who  embraces  in  a  passionate  self-feeling 
Ihe  aims  of  the  fellowship,  and  spends  his  life  in  fighting  for  their 
attainment. 

The  ideal  of  moral  unity  I  take  to  be  the  mother,  as  it  were,  of  all 
Rocial  ideals. 
I   It  is,  then,  not  my  aim  to  depreciate  the  self-assertive  passions. 

II  believe  that  they  are  fierce,  inextinguishable,  indispensable.     Com- 
fcetition  and  the  survival  of  the  fittest  are  as  righteous  as  kindness 
Ind  cooperation,  and  not  necessarily  opposed  to  them ;  an  adequate 
^iew  will  embrace  and  harmonize  these  diverse  aspects.     The  point 

I  wish  particularly  to  bring  out  in  this  chapter  is  that  the  normal  self 
lls  molded  in  primary  groups  to  be  a  social  self  whose  ambitions  are 
I prmed  by  the  common  thought  of  the  group. 

In  their  crudest  form,  such  passions  as  lust,  greed,  revenge,  the  pride 
•bf  power  and  the  like  are  not,  distinctively,  human  nature  at  all,  but 
Itnimal  nature,  and  so  far  as  we  rise  into  the  spirit  of  family  or  neigh- 
f  porhood  association  we  control  and  subordinate  them.  They  are  ren- 
I  lered  human  only  so  far  as  they  are  brought  under  the  discipline  of 


244  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

sympathy,  and  refined  into  sentiments,  such  as  love,  resentment  and 
ambition.  And  in  so  far  as  they  are  thus  humanized  they  become 
capable  of  useful  function. 

Take  the  greed  of  gain,  for  example,  the  ancient  sin  of  avarice,  the 
old  wolf,  as  Dante  says,  that  gets  more  prey  than  all  the  other  beasts. 
The  desire  of  possession  is  in  itself  a  good  thing,  a  phase  of  self-realiza- 
tion and  a  cause  of  social  improvement.  It  is  immoral  or  greedy  only 
when  it  is  without  adequate  control  from  sympathy,  when  the  self- 
realized  is  a  narrow  self.  .  .  . 

The  improvement  of  society  does  not  call  for  any  essential  change 
in  human  nature,  but,  chiefly,  for  a  larger  and  higher  application  of 
its  familiar  impulses.  .  .  . 

To  break  up  the  ideal  of  a  moral  whole  into  particular  ideals  is  an 
artificial  process  which  every  thinker  would  probably  carry  out  in  his 
own  way.  Perhaps,  however,  the  most  salient  principles  are  loyalty, 
lawfulness  and  freedom. 

In  so  far  as  one  identifies  himself  with  a  whole,  loyalty  to  that  whole  is 
loyalty  to  himself ;  it  is  self-realization,  something  in  which  one  can- 
not fail  without  losing  self-respect.  Moreover,  this  is  a  larger  self, 
leading  out  into  a  wider  and  richer  life,  and  appealing,  therefore,  to 
enthusiasm  and  the  need  of  quickening  ideals.  One  is  never  more 
human,  and,  as  a  rule,  never  happier,  than  when  he  is  sacrificing  his 
narrow  and  merely  private  interest  to  the  higher  call  of  the  congenial 
group.  And  without  doubt  the  natural  genesis  of  this  sentiment  is 
in  the  intimacy  of  face-to-face  cooperation.  It  is  rather  the  rule  than 
the  exception  in  the  family,  and  grows  up  among  children  and  youth 
so  fast  as  they  learn  to  think  and  act  to  common  ends.  The  team 
feeling  described  above  illustrates  it  as  well  as  anything. 

Among  the  ideals  inseparable  from  loyalty  are  those  of  truth,  service 
and  kindness,  always  conceived  as  due  to  the  intimate  group  rather 
than  to  the  world  at  large. 

Truth  or  good  faith  toward  other  members  of  a  fellowship  is,  so  far 
as  I  know,  a  universal  human  ideal.     It  does  not  involve  any  abstract 
love  of  veracity,  and  is  quite  consistent  with  deception  toward  the 
outside  world,  being  essentially  "  truth  of  intercourse  "  or  fair  dealing 
among  intimates.     There  are  few,  even  among  those  reckoned  lawless, 
who  will  not  keep  faith  with  one  who  has  the  gift  of  getting  near  to  them 
in  spirit  and  making  them  feel  that  he  is  one  of  themselves.     Thus  j 
Judge  Lindsey  of  Denver  has  worked  a  revolution  among  the  neglected 
boys  of  his  city,  by  no  other  method  than  that  of  entering  into  the  same  I 
moral  whole,  becoming  part  of  a  "  we  "  with  them.     He  awakens  I 
their  sense  of    honor,  trusts  it  and  is  almost  never  disappointed. 
When  he  wishes  to  send  a  boy  to  the  reform  school,  the  latter  promises 
to  repair  to  the  institution  at  a  given  time,  and  invariably  does  so.  | 


THE  GENERAL  NATURE  OF  SOCIAL  LIFE  245 

Among  tramps  a  similar  sentiment  prevails.  "  It  will  be  found," 
said  a  young  man  who  had  spent  the  summer  among  vagrants,  "  that 
f  they  are  treated  square,  they  will  do  the  same." 

The  ideal  of  service  likewise  goes  with  the  sense  of  unity.  If  there 
s  a  vital  whole,  the  right  aim  of  individual  activity  can  be  no  other 
than  to  serve  that  whole.  And  this  is  not  so  much  a  theory  as  a  feeling 
that  will  exist  wherever  the  whole  is  felt.  It  is  a  poor  sort  of  an  in- 
dividual that  does  not  feel  the  need  to  devote  himself  to  the  larger 
>urposes  of  the  group.  In  our  society  many  feel  this  need  in  youth, 
and  express  it  on  the  playground,  who  never  succeed  in  realizing  it 
among  the  less  intimate  relations  of  business  or  professional  life. 

All  mankind  acknowledges  kindness  as  the  law  of  right  intercourse 
within  a  social  group.  By  communion  minds  are  fused  into  a  sym- 
mthetic  whole,  each  part  of  which  tends  to  share  the  life  of  all  the  rest, 
so  that  kindness  is  a  common  joy,  and  harshness  a  common  pain.  It 
s  the  simplest,  most  attractive  and  most  diffused  of  human  ideals. 
The  golden  rule  springs  directly  from  human  nature. 

Accordingly  this  ideal  has  been  bound  up  with  association  in  all  past 
times  and  among  all  peoples ;  it  was  a  matter  of  course  that  when  men 
acted  together  in  war,  industry,  devotion,  sport  or  what  not,  they 
ormed  a  brotherhood  or  friendship.  It  is  perhaps  only  in  modern 
days,  along  with  the  great  and  sudden  differentiation  of  activities, 
;hat  feeling  has  failed  to  keep  up,  and  the  idea  of  cooperation  without 
friendship  has  become  familiar.  .  .  . 

Every  intimate  group,  like  every  individual,  experiences  conflicting 
impulses  within  itself,  and  as  the  individual  feels  the  need  of  definite 
mnciples  to  shape  his  conduct  and  give  him  peace,  so  the  group  needs 
aw  or  rule  for  the  same  purpose.  It  is  not  merely  that  the  over- 
strong  or  the  insubordinate  must  be  restrained,  but  that  all  alike  may 
lave  some  definite  criterion  of  what  the  good  member  ought  to  do. 
it  is  a  mere  fact  of  psychology  that  where  a  social  whole  exists  it  may 
>e  as  painful  to  do  wrong  as  tq^suffer  it, — because  one's  own  spirit 
s  divided,  —  and  the  common  heed  is  for  harmony  through  a  law, 
framed  in  the  total  interest,  which  every  one  can  and  must  obey. 

This  need  of  rules  to  align  differentiated  impulse  with  the  good  of 
the  whole  is  nowhere  more  apparent  than  on  the  playground.  .  .  . 

No  doubt  every  one  remembers  how  the  idea  of  justice  is  developed 
n  children's  games.  There  is  always  something  to  be  done  in  which 
various  parts  are  to  be  taken,  success  depending  upon  their  efficient 
distribution.  .  .  . 

Freedom  is  that  phase  of  social  ideal  which  emphasizes  individu- 
ality. The  whole  to  which  we  belong  is  made  up  of  diverse  energies 
which  enkindle  one  another  by  friction ;  and  its  vigor  requires  that 
I  these  have  play.  Thus  the  fierce  impulses  of  ambition  and  pride  may 


246  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

be  as  organic  as  anything  else  —  provided  they  are  sufficiently  hu- 
manized as  to  their  objects  —  and  are  to  be  interfered  with  only  when 
they  become  destructive  or  oppressive.  .  .  . 

The  idea  of  the  germinal  character  of  primary  association  is  one  that 
is  fast  making  its  way  in  education  and  philanthropy.  As  we  learn 
that  man  is  altogether  social  and  never  seen  truly  except  in  connection 
with  his  fellows,  we  fix  our  attention  more  and  more  on  group  con- 
ditions as  the  source,  for  better  or  worse,  of  personal  character,  and 
come  to  feel  that  we  must  work  on  the  individual  through  the  web  of 
relations  in  which  he  actually  lives. 

The  school,  for  instance,  must  form  a  whole  with  the  rest  of  life, 
using  the  ideas  generated  by  the  latter  as  the  starting  point  of  its  train- 
ing. The  public  opinion  and  traditions  of  the  scholars  must  be  re- 
spected and  made  an  ally  of  discipline.  Children's  associations  should 
be  fostered  and  good  objects  suggested  for  their  activity.  .  .  . 

It  is  much  the  same  in  the  country.     In  every  village  and  township  j 
in  the  land,  I  suppose,  there  are  one  or  more  groups  of  predatory  boys  j 
and  hoydenish  girls  whose  mischief  is  only  the  result  of  ill-directed 
energy.     If  each  of  these  could  receive  a  little  sympathetic  attention 
from  kindred  but  wiser  spirits,  at  least  half  of  the  crime  and  vice  of 
the  next  generation  would  almost  certainly  be  done  away  with. 

Extracts  from  Chapters  III  and  IV  of  Social  Organization  by  C.  H.  Cooley. 
Courtesy  of  Charles  Scribner's  Sons. 


TOPICS  FOR  STUDY 

1.  In  what  way  does  the  conception  of  society  as  an  organization 
differ  from  the  conception  of  society  as  an  organism? 

2.  Contrast  present-day  conceptions  of  the  origin  of  society,  of 
the  nature  of  law,  of  government  and  of  the  proper  function  of  punish- 
ment with  earlier  conceptions. 

3.  In  what  sense  may  a  social  group  be  said  to  have  a  mind,  a  will, 
habits,  impulses,  morals? 

4.  Show  that  moral  questions  are  ultimately  social  questions. 

5.  LeBon's  conception  of  a  crowd.     Characteristics  of. 

6.  Compare  the  general  notion  of  society  suggested  by  LeBon  with 
that  suggested  by  Cooley  (vide    Social  Organization).     Are    they 
mutually  exclusive? 

7.  Difference  between  absolute  and  social  standards  of  conduct. 
Cooley  (Social  Organization). 

8.  What  is  meant  by  the  assertion  that  all  real  reform  must  be 
sympathetic  ?    Is  it  possible  to  say  that  any  people  are  chiefly  given 
over  to  conscious  badness?    How  does  the  answer  to  this  question 


THE  GENERAL  NATURE  OF   SOCIAL  LIFE  247 

bear  on  social  reform?    How  upon  the  problem  of  dealing  with  the 
bad  boy  at  school  ? 

9.  If  we  accept  the  view  that  our  acts  are  socially  determined, 
what  becomes  of  individual  responsibility  ?  Can  you  show  that  it  is 
increased  rather  than  diminished  ?  Why  is  the  consciously  bad  man 
less  harmful  socially  than  the  ill  doers  who  believe  in  themselves? 
How  can  a  person  be  an  evil  doer  who  acts  with  a  "good  conscience"  ? 

10.  What  does  Cooley  mean  by  an  "unbalanced   doctrine  of  re- 
sponsibility "  ?     Can  you  see  how  it  might  affect    certain    school 
problems  ? 

11.  What  conception  of  punishment  do  you  get  from  Cooley? 
Work  out  its  implications  in  school  practice.     Do  you  think  that  he 
would  condemn  corporal  punishment  in  school  ?    Why  ? 

12.  What  are  primary  ideals  ?     Show  how  each  one  is  a  more  or  less 
spontaneous  expression  of  primary  group  life.     What  problems  pre- 
sent themselves  in  the  extension  of  primary  ideals? 

REFERENCES  ON  THE  NATURE  OF  SOCIETY 

BALDWIN,  J.  M.     The  Individual  and  Society.     1911. 

COOLEY,  C.  H.     Human  Nature  and  the  Social  Order.     New  York, 
1902. 

—  Social  Organization,  A  Study  of  the  Larger  Mind.    New  York, 
1909. 

GIDDINGS,  F.  H.      Principles  of  Sociology.    New  York,  3d  ed.,  1909. 

HOBBES,  THOMAS.     Leviathan,  or  the  Matter,  Form,  and  Power  of  a 
Commonwealth. 

LE  BON,  GUSTAVE.     The  Crowd,  A  Study  of  the  Popular  Mind. 
Ross,  E.  A.     Social  Psychology.     New  York,  1908. 
ROUSSEAU,  J.  J.     The  Social  Contract. 
SPENCER,  HERBERT.     Principles  of  Sociology.    3  v. 

TARDE,  GABRIEL.     Social  Laws,  translated  by  H.  C.  Warren.     New 
York,  1899. 

WARD,  L.  F.    Dynamic  Sociology.     2  v.     New  York,  1897. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE   SPONTANEOUS   SOCIAL   LIFE   OF   CHILDREN 

Spontaneous  Social  Organizations  among  Children 

IN  the  preceding  section  the  general  nature  of  society  as  an  organi- 
zation was  discussed.  It  was  seen  that  this  organization  is  spontane- 
ous, that  it  is  not  subversive  but  rather  conducive  to  individuality, 
and  that  its  best  examples  are  the  primary  groups,  the  nurseries  of 
human  nature  and  the  basis  of  most  of  our  ideals  of  that  conduct 
which  is  regarded  as  human,  and,  hence,  right. 

Among  the  various  primary  groups  which  might  be  mentioned,  the 
school  stands  out  as  having  many  if  not  all  the  necessary  character- 
istics. Preliminary,  however,  to  a  study  of  the  social  nature  of  the 
school  group  it  will  be  well  to  note  some  of  the  tendencies  of  children 
of  a  certain  age  to  spontaneously  develop  a  group  or  community  life. 
These  tendencies  appear  particularly  in  their  group  games,  in  the 
gangs  of  street  urchins  and  in  the  various  clubs  which  boys  especially 
tend  to  form.  Child  life,  always  social,  tends,  when  a  certain  age  is 
reached,  to  seek  expression  in  some  more  or  less  temporary  corporate 
association.  A  study  of  these  spontaneous  social  tendencies  throws 
important  light  upon  the  nature  of  the  corporate  life  which  develops 
quite  as  spontaneously  in  the  school. 

As  source  material,  extracts  from  Johnson's  valuable  study,  Rudi- 
mentary Society  among  Boys,  are  here  reprinted.  The  object  of  the 
author  appears  to  have  been  to  show  how  primitive  usages  with  refer- 
ence to  private  property,  law-making  judicial  procedure  and  money 
are  strikingly  paralleled  in  the  spontaneous  activities  of  modern  boys. 
Our  interest  in  the  facts  recorded  may  be  slightly  different  without  in 
any  way  distorting  them.  The  activities  here  recorded  were  those 
of  a  true  "  primary  group."  There  was  "  intimate  face-to-face  as: 
ciation  and  cooperation/'  and  the  unity  displayed  was  clearly  n< 
always  "  one  of  mere  harmony  and  love." 

248 


ose   < 
,so- 

1 


THE  SPONTANEOUS   SOCIAL  LIFE   OF   CHILDREN     249 

Although  this  boy  society  developed  upon  a  school  farm,  its  deter- 
mining features  may  be  said  to  have  been  formed  independently  of 
the  school  life.  It  was  just  such  a  society  as  tends  to  develop  quite  of 
its  own  accord  wherever  children  of  a  certain  age  are  thrown  together 
for  any  length  of  time  and  active  interests  are  stimulated.  The 
McDonogh  farm  afforded  an  arena  for  a  wide  range  of  activity. 
On  the  basis  of  this  opportunity  the  boys  developed  a  rudimentary 
social  organization  within  which  conflicting  interests  were  adjusted 
and  a  crude  justice  administered.  It  affords  an  admirable  illustra- 
tion of  certain  of  the  "  primary  ideals  "  specified  by  Cooley, —  for 
instance,  these  of  lawfulness,  of  truth,  of  freedom  and  of  natural  right. 

We  are  introduced  through  this  paper  to  a  wide  and  important 
field  for  inductive  study;  namely,  the  institutional  activities  of  chil- 
I  dren.  A  thorough  understanding  of  these  activities  in  their  general 
phases  should  throw  much  light  upon  the  nature  of  the  corporate  life 
of  the  school,  as  one  of  their  particular  manifestations.  Already, 
much  valuable  material  has  been  collected,  but  much  remains  to  be 
done.  Boys  left  entirely  to  themselves  form  cliques,  or  gangs,  which 
I  possess,  even  though  on  a  low  plane,  the  raw  material  for  a  higher  social 
I  development.  The  social  organization  of  the  McDonogh  School  is 
I  not  presented  as  in  any  sense  ideal.  The  laws  permitted  the  develop- 
|ment  of  grave  social  abuses  ;  the  justice  that  was  administered  was 
Soften  crude.  But  the  group  that  lived  there  did  show  a  dawning  sense 
•of  lawfulness  and  of  justice;  so  do  all  the  spontaneous  associations 
lof  children.  The  recognition  of  this  tendency  has  led  to  many  at- 
I  tempts  on  the  part  of  adults  to  utilize  for  educative  ends  the  instinc- 
tive social  activities  of  boys  and  girls.  The  boys'  club  is  a  redeemed 
Igang.  It  is  a  corporate  existence  in  which  there  is  just  enough  con- 
•tact  with  a  wise,  mature  mind  to  make  it  a  positive  character-forming 
fcgency.  The  boy  scout  movement  rests  upon  the  same  basis  and,  for 
Ithe  same  reasons,  has  great  possibilities  for  character  development. 
•Knottier  interesting  illustration  is  furnished  by  the  organization  of 
•the  Toledo  newsboys,  described  by  Gunckel  in  Boyville. 

All  in  all,  the  remarkable  results  attained  by  skilled  workers  in  turn- 
Itng  to  some  good  the  corporate  tendencies  of  boys  mark  them  as  most 
I  mportant  aspects  of  educational  work,  work  which  is  thus  far  scarcely 
•recognized  by  the  agencies  of  public  instruction. 


250  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

Rudimentary  Society  among  Boys 

At  the  top  of  one  of  the  low,  fertile  hills  that  cover  much  of  the 
country  to  the  north  and  west  of  Baltimore,  stands  the  McDonogh 
School.  Around  it  stretch  the  eight  hundred  acres  of  the  school 
farm.  .  .  . 

Over  these  teeming  eight  hundred  acres  the  "  McDonogh  boys  " 
roam  at  will,  each  according  to  his  ability  striving  to  become  a  mighty 
hunter  in  the  earth.  During  the  first  spring  after  the  opening  of  the 
school,  the  boys  found  the  woods  abounding  with  birds'  eggs  and 
squirrels,  which  they  might  have  for  the  trouble  of  taking.  During 
the  autumn  they  gathered  chestnuts  and  walnuts  and  stored  them 
away  to  be  cracked  and  eaten  before  the  big  fire  in  the  schoolroom. 
Whether  in  spring  or  in  autumn,  all  who  went  to  the  labor  of  searching 
were  rewarded  with  an  abundance.  When  the  frost  had  killed  the 
green  shoots  and  troubled  the  rabbits  to  get  a  living,  every  boy  that 
chose  to  do  so  set  traps  in  the  swamps  and  ditches,  and  baited  them 
with  sweet-smelling  apples,  or  more  pungent  and  effective  onions. 

The  ground  was  then  regarded  as  the  property  of  the  community, 
and  while,  like  the  ancient  Teutonic  villager,  each  "  McDonogh  boy  " 
took  pains  to  exclude  strangers  from  the  Mark,  each  regarded  himself 
with  the  rest  as  a  joint  owner  of  the  harvest  of  nuts,  and  all  had  equal 
rights  of  hunting  and  trapping  in  the  waste.  As  in  the  precursors  of 
those  Aryan  villages  of  the  East,  recently  studied  by  Phear,  "land  was 
not  conceived  of  as  property  in  the  modern  sense,  or  as  belonging  to 
any  individual."  The  whole  was  common  to  them  all,  and  every  boy  i 
had  a  right  to  a  portion  of  the  fruits  of  the  ground.  .  .  . 

Among  the  "  McDonogh  boys,"  as  among  many  savage  societies, 
the  beginning  of  property  in  land  is  seen  as  "  the  collective  ownership 
of  the  soil  by  groups  of  persons."     I  had  almost  continued  the  quota- 
tion to  make  it  include  the  words,  "  groups  believing  or  assuming  that 
they  are  "  united  in  blood  relationship.     But  while  such  a  statement 
here  would  be  untrue,  the  feeling  of  union  among  the  "  McDonogh  I 
boys  "  is  of  a  very  striking  intensity.     They  become  greatly  indignant,  I 
and  even  have  a  sense  of  wrong  done  them  when  they  discover  a  young- 
ster from  the  neighborhood  trapping  game  upon  "  our  farm."     This  | 
sentiment  they  have  sometimes  manifested  in  attempts  to  prevent  the  j 
children  of  the  men  employed  on  the  farm  from  gathering  eggs  in  the  | 
woods ;   and  the  schoolboys  regard  their  few  competitors  in  hunting 
with  an  aversion  often  put  into  words  and  sometimes  into  acts.  .  .  . 

This  feeling  of  brotherhood  is  so  deep  and  lasting  that  it  might  be  jl 
said  of  the  "  new  boy,"  on  his  admission  into  the  McDonogh  School,    ) 
"  in  sacra  transiit"     The  feeling  of  the  boys  is  well  shown  in  their 
conception  of  their  rights  to  the  property  of  the  school,  many  of  them  | 


THE   SPONTANEOUS   SOCIAL   LIFE  OF   CHILDREN     251 

regarding  themselves  as  the  legatees  of  John  McDonogh,  the  philan- 
thropist, who  gave  his  fortune  to  Baltimore  in  trust  for  the  education  of 
poor  boys.  He  fills  the  niche  once  occupied  in  the  minds  of  their 
Aryan  progenitors  by  the  common  ancestor,  from  whom  all  the  mem- 
bers of  the  primitive  community  thought  themselves  to  have  sprung. 
For  the  primitive  fiction  of  common  descent  they  have  substituted  the 
real  bond  of  school  fellowship  and  the  pretended  bond  of  succession. 
As  they  sometimes  express  it,  "  McDonogh  left  his  property  to  us," 
and  the  idea  that  any  other  than  "  McDonogh  boys  "  have  any  rights 
over  the  property,  they  do  not  easily  accept.  This  feeling  is  clearly  dis- 
played in  their  attitude  toward  one  of  the  rules  of  the  school.  They  are 
not  permitted  to  pluck  the  fruit  in  the  orchards,  and  some  of  them  are 
honestly  unable  to  see  the  justice  of  such  a  regulation.  The  fact  that 
the  fruit  is  given  to  them  after  it  is  gathered  does  not  at  all  satisfy 
them.  Conscientious  boys  have  often  said  in  my  hearing  that,  as 
they  owned  the  fruit,  no  one  had  a  right  to  prevent  them  from  pulling 
it.  They  are,  however,  debarred  from  carrying  this  idea  into  practice, 
and  the  truth  has  often  been  pointed  out  to  them ;  so  this  notion  is  not 
universal  among  them.  But  as  no  one  has  interfered  to  dispel  their 
belief  that  they  have  property  in  the  nuts,  eggs  and  squirrels,  they  have 
made  this  a  cardinal  doctrine  of  their  politics. 

With  this  feeling  of  ownership  constantly  in  mind,  the  boys  that 
entered  the  school  at  its  opening  went  peering  through  the  high  grass 
of  the  meadows  in  search  of  bobolinks'  eggs ;  and  climbed  the  rough 
pin  oaks  to  the  nests  of  the  hawks.  The  first  score  of  urchins  were  able 
to  get  as  much  as  they  desired  from  the  fields  and  woods ;  but  when  the 
school  grew  in  numbers,  and  fifty  adventurers  had  boxes  of  bran  to  be 
filled  with  zoological  specimens,  and  bins  each  holding  bushels  to  be 
stored  with  walnuts,  the  demand  for  these  treasures  began  to  exceed 
the  supply.  Then  competition  set  in  and  disputes  arose,  out  of  which, 
with  the  aid  of  an  apparent  instinct  for  politics,  the  boys  were  able  to 
bring  custom  and  law,  and  a  system  of  property  which  was  odd  and 
unexpected,  yet  orderly  and  intelligible.  .  .  . 

To  understand  their  position  in  the  line  of  progress,  we  must  first 
see  how  they  now  gather  the  crop,  and  how  they  formerly  harvested  it. 
Just  after  midnight  some  morning  early  in  October,  when  the  first 
frosts  of  the  season  have  loosened  the  grasp  of  the  nuts  upon  the  limbs, 
parties  of  two  or  three  boys  might  be  seen  (if  any  one  were  sufficiently 
interested  to  leave  his  bed  at  such  an  untimely  hour)  rushing  at  full 
speed  over  the  wet  fields.  When  the  swiftest  party  has  reached  a 
walnut  tree,  one  of  the  number  climbs  up  rapidly,  shakes  off  half  a 
bushel  of  nuts  and  scrambles  down  again.  Then  off  the  boys  go  to  the 
next  tree,  where  the  process  is  repeated  unless  the  tree  is  occupied  by 
other  boys  doing  likewise.  This  activity  continues  during  play  hours 


252  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

until  all  the  walnut  trees  on  the  place  have  been  appropriated.  Nut 
hunters  coming  to  the  tree  after  the  first  party  has  been  there  and  wish- 
ing to  shake  the  tree  further  are  required  by  custom  to  pile  up  all  the 
nuts  that  lie  under  the  tree.  Until  this  is  done,  the  unwritten  law  does 
not  permit  their  shaking  any  more  nuts  upon  the  ground.  Any  one 
that  violated  this  provision  and  shook  nuts  from  a  tree  before  piling 
up  those  beneath,  would  be  universally  regarded  as  dishonest,  and  every 
boy's  hand  would  be  against  him.  To  collect  all  these  nuts  into  a  pile 
requires  no  small  labor,  and  rather  than  undergo  this  the  second  party 
will  usually  go  off  in  search  of  another  tree.  Consequently  the  partial 
shaking  commonly  enables  the  boy  that  first  climbs  a  tree  to  get  pos- 
session of  all  its  fruit. 

A  certain  justice  underlies  this  custom.  Labor  has  been  expended  in 
the  first  shaking.  If  another  comes  and  shakes  more  nuts  to  the 
ground  before  picking  up  those  already  there,  the  fruit  of  the  first 
boy's  labor  will  be  mixed  up  with  that  of  the  second,  and  thus  the  first 
owner  will  lose  some  of  his  work.  The  moral  sense  of  the  community 
agrees  that  no  part  of  the  labor  shall  be  lost  to  him  that  performs  it, 
and  to  prevent  such  a  result  the  present  regulation  seems  effectual.  In 
what  notions,  ethical  or  other,  this  practice  of  seizing  trees  was  begun, 
we  cannot  now  discover ;  but  all  analogies  indicate  that  the  justice  of 
the  matter  was  not  the  sole  consideration.  But  if  it  is  hard  to  discover 
the  origin  of  this  custom  in  the  moral  nature  of  the  boys,  we  may  yet 
see  how  it  illustrates  their  views  of  property.  Inasmuch  as  a  tree  is  the 
property  of  a  boy  and  his  partners  only  so  long  as  his  nuts  remain  un- 
piled  on  the  ground,  and  since  the  trees  may  be  shaken  again  by  any 
boy  who  chooses  to  pile  up  the  nuts,  it  is  evident  that  in  the  eyes  of 
the  boys  the  trees  belong  to  all  of  them.  The  simple  expedient  for 
redistributing  the  trees  at  intervals  of  a  year  is  to  cause  all  titles  to 
expire  at  the  end  of  4the  harvest.  A  boy's  right  to  a  tree  lasts  no 
longer  than  a  single  autumn.  If  in  all  that  time  he  does  not  remove 
his  crop,  and  if  no  one  else  piles  up  the  nuts  and  gathers  the  rest  of 
the  yield,  still  his  right  expires  by  limitation ;  and  at  the  opening  of 
the  next  season  the  first  comer  has  a  right  to  establish  a  title  for  himself. 

It  may  be  said  that  permitting  each  boy  to  seize  trees  as  he  can  is 
hardly  to  be  called  an  equitable  method  of  redistribution,  but,  as  I 
desire  to  establish  only  the  fact  of  redistribution,  this  is  not  a  valid 
objection.  It  is,  however,  true  that  efforts  have  been  made  looking 
toward  a  fair  division.  The  keen  competition  for  walnuts  led  many  • 
boys  to  shake  trees  in  the  middle  of  September,  and  thus  to  acquire  a 
title  to  them  long  before  the  fruit  was  ripe.  When  baseball  was  still 
the  main  idea  of  the  majority,  perhaps  a  fortnight  before  the  first 
frost  (everywhere  recognized  as  marking  the  ripening  of  the  crop),  the 
greediest  or  the  most  enterprising  boys  would  set  out  to  seize  and  shake 


THE   SPONTANEOUS   SOCIAL  LIFE  OF   CHILDREN     253 

as  many  trees  as  possible.  Having  no  competitors,  they  would  be  able 
in  a  few  days  to  take  possession  of  a  whole  crop  of  nuts.  To  alleviate 
this  evil,  a  day  in  October  was  fixed  as  the  date  of  the  beginning  of 
harvest.  An  assembly  of  the  boys,  where  all  may  take  part,  is  the  body 
which  determined  and  still  determines  the  opening  of  the  season.  The 
meaning  of  this  public  act  is  evident.  It  was  felt  that  the  few  had 
seized  what  the  many  owned,  and  to  prevent  the  recurrence  of  this 
robbery,  it  was  made  unlawful  to  gather  any  part  of  the  crop  before  all 
knew  it  was  ripe.  By  fixing  a  day  when  the  harvest  should  begin,  the 
boys  did  what  they  could  towards  equalizing  the  shares  of  each.  They 
at  least  put  all  upon  the  same  footing  as  regards  the  time  of  gathering, 
and  they  made  each  boy  know  when  he  must  enter  upon  the  competi- 
tion. Though  not  all  the  starters  could  have  the  inside  track,  all  got 
away  together. 

While  the  community  thus  does  what  it  can  to  give  each  member  a 
fair  chance,  no  effort  has  been  made  to  equalize  the  industry  of  the 
competitors.  The  hardest  workers  still  gather  the  biggest  crop.  The 
day  for  the  opening  of  harvest  is  reckoned  to  begin  at  midnight,  and 
the  boys  that  are  most  in  earnest  stay  awake  till  twelve,  and  then, 
issuing  from  their  beds  into  the  chilly  moonlight  of  the  October  fields, 
they  seize  such  trees  as  they  desire. 

The  same  feeling  of  common  ownership  of  the  woodland  and  the 
same  attempt  at  redistribution,  which  appear  in  the  custom  of  gather- 
ing the  walnut  crop,  are  apparent  in  the  usages  of  the  school  on  the 
subjects  of  egg  gathering  and  squirrel  hunting.  As  eggs  grew  scarce 
and  the  boys  grew  more  numerous,  those  who  most  desired  the  eggs 
worked  hardest  to  get  them,  climbing  higher  trees  and  wading  through 
muddier  swamps.  As  the  more  industrious  boys  saw  the  birds  build- 
ing nests  over  their  heads,  what  was  more  natural  than  a  desire  to 
possess  them  before  the  laying  began,  and  thus  to  acquire  a  title  to  the 
eggs  ?  A  boy  who  had  spent  hours  in  a  weary  search  and  had  at  last 
found  a  nest,  felt  that  his  labor  gave  him  the  right  to  it.  Accordingly 
some  boys  began  to  invent  ways  of  marking  the  trees  in  which  they  had 
found  nests,  and  to  claim  ownership,  not  of  the  eggs,  which  were  not 
then  laid,  but  of  the  tree  in  which  they  knew  the  eggs  would  soon  be 
brought  forth.  Commonly  when  a  boy  found  a  nest,  he  laid  a  dead 
limb  against  the  trunk  as  a  warning  to  others  that  the  tree  had  become 
his,  and  was  no  longer  common  property,  to  be  taken  by  any  one  pass- 
ing by.  Rights  thus  acquired  were  not  always  respected  by  the  cove- 
tous, and  eggs  were  so  often  taken  from  marked  nests  as  to  lead  to  an 
intolerable  condition  of  quarreling  and  fighting.  The  community 
then  interfered  to  regulate  the  use  of  the  Mark.  After  much  angry 
jdiscussion  the  assembly  adopted  the  plan  of  nailing  upon  the  trees  a 
iticket  bearing  the  finder's  name  and  the  date  of  the  discovery.  This 


254  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

ticket  gave  to  the  boy  whose  name  it  bore  a  right  of  property  during 
the  rest  of  that  year  to  all  the  nests  that  might  be  made  in  that  tree 
and  to  all  their  contents.  On  the  last  day  of  December  all  titles  were 
to  lapse,  to  be  renewed  only  by  the  new  ticket. 

Before  the  first  bluebird  has  laid  her  pale  azure  eggs  in  the  leafless 
orchards,  the  egg  hunters,  in  conformity  with  this  statute,  provide 
themselves  with  strips  of  paper  bearing  their  name  and  the  date. 
These  tickets  and  some  tacks  they  take  with  them  whenever  they  go 
into  the  woods.  Where  a  hollow  limb  presages  the  birth  of  a  brood 
of  squirrels,  one  of  these  labels  is  nailed  upon  the  trunk  beneath,  and 
another  is  placed  under  every  crow's  nest  building  in  the  branches. 
During  the  year  no  other  honest  boy  will  take  eggs  or  squirrels  from  a 
tree  thus  appropriated,  and  [the  first  discoverers]  may  go  at  leisure 
and  collect  the  new-laid  specimens  for  their  cabinets  or  the  weak-eyed 
pets  for  their  pockets. 

When  the  explorations  of  the  boys  revealed  the  presence  of  nuts, 
eggs  and  squirrels,  numbers  of  rabbits  were  also  discovered.  At- 
tempts were  at  once  made  upon  the  lives  of  these  animals,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  adding  a  delicacy  to  the  commonplace  round  of  boarding  school 
fare.  Every  boy  that  chose  to  do  so  made  traps  and  set  them  at  such 
spots  as  struck  his  fancy,  for  at  the  start  the  equal  rights  of  all  to  the 
woods  and  game  were  fully  recognized.  But  ownership  in  severalty 
was  soon  established  on  the  ruins  of  the  system  of  common  property. 

Clearly  to  understand  this  economic  revolution,  we  must  consider 
it  historically.  The  rabbit-trapping  season  begins  about  the  middle  of 
October  and  ends  early  in  December.  Its  opening  depends  upon  the 
weather,  and  not,  like  the  walnut  harvest,  upon  the  legislation  of  the 
boys.  If  there  is  an  early  autumn,  the  rabbits  may  be  induced  by  the 
scarcity  of  food  to  enter  the  traps  sooner  than  if  the  warm  weather 
continues  till  late. 

In  the  first  autumn  after  the  opening  of  the  school,  each  boy  that 
chose  to  do  so  made  a  box  of  planks,  fitted  one  end  with  a  door  that 
would  fall  at  the  touch  of  a  trigger,  and  having  found  a  promising  spot, 
there  set  his  trap.  The  hungry  rabbits  were  tempted  with  fragrant 
apples  and  appetizing  onions,  and  a  few  victims  were  enticed  within 
the  fatal  door.  At  that  time  no  boy  set  more  than  half  a  dozen  traps, 
and  almost  the  whole  school  enjoyed  the  delightful  anticipation  of 
having  rabbits  for  breakfast  on  some  future  morning. 

But  the  spots  where  the  rabbits  can  be  caught  on  eight  hundred 
acres  are  comparatively  few,  and  hence  the  closeness  of  the  traps  inter- 
fered with  the  amount  of  the  catch.  It  is  a  habit  with  rabbits  to  move 
about  in  well-marked  paths,  and  the  boys  usually  set  their  traps  in 
these  places.  Generally  a  rabbit  will  enter  the  first  trap  in  his  path, 
and  boys  often  complained  that  their  traps  were  rendered  useless 


THE  SPONTANEOUS   SOCIAL  LIFE  OF   CHILDREN     255 

the  proximity  of  others.  After  a  year  or  two  of  this  unsatisfactory 
state  of  affairs,  a  large  boy,  who  had  set  his  traps  rather  earlier  than 
the  rest,  began  dropping  heavy  stones  upon  all  traps  set  closer  to  his 
own  than  he  thought  desirable.  In  such  a  society  as  we  are  studying, 
a  hard-fisted  fellow  of  fifteen  is  a  great  personage,  and  has  much  the 
same  influence  as  a  great  warrior  in  a  primitive  village.  The  example 
of  this  boy  magnate  was  imitated  by  all  who  dared ;  and  by  common 
consent,  or  perhaps  by  common  submission,  a  limited  distance  between 
traps  was  agreed  on.  .  .  . 

Boy  Legislation.  —  The  legislation  of  the  boys  has  been  already  re- 
ferred to  in  speaking  of  the  growth  of  ideas  of  property  in  nests  and 
trees.  We  have  seen  how  the  school  fellows  fixed  the  date  of  the 
walnut  harvest,  and  determined  that  nests  should  not  be  taken  from 
trees  marked  with  a  ticket.  No  account,  however,  was  given  of  the 
legislative  body  and  its  procedure.  The  former  resembles,  in  the  ex- 
tent of  its  powers,  the  primitive  assembly,  or  village  council.  Its 
origin,  however,  was  entirely  independent  and  not  the  result  of  any 
imitation.  The  boys  have  never  the  faintest  notion  that  they  are 
reproducing  one  of  the  most  ancient  institutions.  They  do  what  seems 
good  in  their  own  eyes,  with  no  reference  to  the  outside  world,  and  with 
no  intention  of  imitating  anything  belonging  there.  .  .  .  Each  of  the 
assemblies  is  democratic  and  primary ;  each  legislates  ;  as  will  presently 
appear,  each  judges ;  each  is  guided  by  an  unwritten  law ;  each  exerts 
itself  to  make  as  nearly  as  possible  a  fair  division  of  the  communal 
property ;  each  fixes  the  date  of  the  opening  of  harvest.  The  infor- 
mality of  the  Russian  Assembly  is  naturally  exceeded  amongst  the 
schoolboys.  In  the  Russian  body,  every  man  is  so  independent  that 
the  Village  Elder  has  only  the  semblance  of  a  presiding  officer's  author- 
ity, without  the  power  even  to  call  a  member  to  order.  At  McDonogh 
no  president  is  known.  Whoever  is  most  influential  takes  the  lead  in 
dispatching  the  business  of  the  moment.  It  is  not,  however,  neces- 
sary to  break  the  wind  of  our  comparison  by  driving  it  too  far;  all 
that  is  desired  is  to  point  out  the  general  similarity  of  the  Assembly  at 
McDonogh  to  a  typical  village  council. 

The  entire  informality  of  the  proceedings  of  the  boys  and  the  princi- 
ples that  underlie  their  actions  are  well  brought  out  in  the  accounts 
they  have  given  me  of  the  passage  of  their  more  important  laws.  When 
attempts  were  first  made  at  exclusive  ownership  of  trees  containing 
birds'  nests  and  squirrels'  dens,  the  community  took  notice  of  the 
matter.  Some  boys  had  the  habit  of  marking  a  tree  by  laying  a  piece 
of  wood  at  the  foot,  and  others  by  writing  their  names  upon  a  piece  of 
paper  and  fastening  this  upon  the  bark.  The  conservative  boys  desired 
that  no  system  of  marking  should  be  permitted.  The  debate  on  the 
Iquestion  of  what  should  be  done  was  not  held  on  a  fixed  day,  or  in  a 


256  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

settled  place,  or  even  in  the  presence  of  the  whole  body.  School  work 
and  play  were  too  pressing  for  all  to  gather  at  once.  On  the  contrary, 
the  subject  was  talked  over  wherever  several  boys  came  together. 
Traditions  vary  as  to  whether  a  meeting  of  all  the  boys  was  held  to 
make  the  final  test  of  a  vote ;  and  whether  the  time  of  voting  was  ex- 
tended over  a  whole  day  or  even  several  days.  But  whatever  may  have 
been  the  details,  the  essential  facts  are  clearly  enough  described  in  all 
the  accounts. 

After  much  debate,  three  resolutions  respectively  embodying  the 
views  of  the  three  parties  were  written  out  and  pasted  upon  the  wall  of 
the  schoolroom.  The  vote  was  then  taken,  and  each  boy  signed  his 
name  beneath  the  proposition  that  he  favored,  where  it  was  in  full 
view  of  every  one.  Upon  counting  the  signatures,  a  majority  was  found 
to  be  for  permitting  the  placing  of  tickets  upon  trees  as  evidence  that 
they  were  claimed  by  individuals.  This  "  rule  "  (which  is  the  term  the 
boys  apply  to  their  enactments)  immediately  went  into  effect,  and  has 
ever  since  been  a  law.  The  decision  was  by  most  voices  as  it  would  have 
been  at  Washington  or  Westminster.  In  that  lies  the  cardinal  fact. 
Whether  by  imitation  or  by  instinct,  the  boys  hit  upon  the  principle 
that  hinges  all  "  government  by  discussion." 

Some  years  after  the  passage  of  the  law  providing  for  the  ticketing 
of  trees  as  a  means  of  taking  possession,  it  was  found  that  labels  tacked 
upon  the  trunks  occasionally  fell  to  the  ground ;  whereupon  a  passer-by, 
although  he  might  see  the  label  lying  at  his  feet,  would  take  possession  i 
of  the  eggs  that  it  was  intended  to  protect.  A  strict  adherence  to  the 
letter  of  the  law  is  counted  as  righteousness  among  primitive  peoples, 
and  our  boys  are  yet  in  the  savage  state  of  morality.  In  order  to  im- 
prove the  security  of  property,  a  meeting  was  held  at  which,  I  under- 
stand, but  few  boys  were  present.  It  was  agreed  by  them  without  any 
of  the  formality  of  a  written  vote,  that  it  would  thereafter  be  unlawful 
to  disturb  any  nest  where  the  label  intended  to  make  it  could  be  seen 
lying  upon  the  ground.  After  this  assembly  broke  up,  the  consent  of 
a  sufficient  number  of  other  boys,  who  had  been  absent,  was  ob- 
tained by  going  about  and  asking  them  to  agree  to  the  "  new  rule." 
The  informality  of  the  passage  of  this  statute  seems  to  have  caused  no 
remark,  and  it  is  still  part  of  the  law.  Upon  its  application  turned  an 
interesting  cause  to  be  hereafter  described. 

Some  incidents  seem  to  point  to  the  downfall  of  the  popular  system 
of  lawmaking.  The  fact  that  a  small  number  of  boys  have  sometimes 
agreed  upon  a  "  rule,"  and  afterwards  obtained  the  consent  of  a  suffi- 
cient number  of  the  rest  to  put  it  into  operation,  is  a  constant  temptation 
to  the  stronger  and  more  influential  boys  to  propose  laws  and  declare 
them  adopted  without  the  consent  of  a  majority.  The  land  monopo- 
lists take  the  lead  in  this  revolutionary  measure,  and  their  course  is 


THE   SPONTANEOUS   SOCIAL  LIFE  OF   CHILDREN     257 

skillfully  chosen.  They  are  careful  to  make  such  regulations  as  meet 
with  general  approval.  A  small  body  of  large  boys  may  easily  avoid  a 
collision  with  the  others  and  yet  impose  laws  without  the  formality  of 
consulting  the  rest.  The  next  and  easy  step  is  to  an  oligarchical  gov- 
ernment. There  are  indications  that  before  many  years  it  will  be  taken, 
and  that  equality  of  political  rights  will  share  the  fate  of  the  equality  of 
property. 

Judicial  Procedure.  —  Inquiries  into  the  customs  of  the  "  McDonogh 
boys  "  cannot  be  carried  far  before  one  is  struck  with  the  peace  and  good 
order  generally  prevalent  in  the  community.  Fights  between  angry 
boys  do  sometimes  occur,  to  be  sure,  but  the  belief  of  the  authorities 
of  the  school  is  that  the  number  of  these  combats  has  steadily  decreased 
with  the  lengthening  life  of  the  institution.  Little  fellows  who  have 
not  lived  at  the  school  long  enough  to  have  become  imbued  with  the 
general  feeling  often  tug  and  strike  impotently  at  each  other ;  but  the 
older  boys  so  seldom  ask  the  decision  of  the  fist  that  a  fight  between 
two  of  them  is  an  event  never  to  be  forgotten,  which  tradition  hands 
down  with  greater  embellishment  at  each  succeeding  year.  When  a 
combat  does  begin,  it  rarely  happens  now  that  the  matter  at  issue  is 
connected  in  any  way  with  rights  of  property.  Insults  and  bullying 
may  lead  to  fights,  but  disputes  over  nests  or  trees  usually  come  to  a 
peaceable  end.  Yet  this  result  has  not  been  reached  by  active  efforts 
on  the  part  of  the  principal  and  his  assistants  to  prevent  fighting,  or 
even  greatly  to  discourage  it.  No  boy  has  ever  been  punished  because 
he  was  the  bearer  of  a  pair  of  blackened  eyes ;  and  further  than  to  pre- 
vent exhibitions  of  violence  in  their  immediate  presence,  the  teachers 
have  not  interfered  with  any  arrangement  for  settling  quarrels  that 
might  be  made  by  pupils.  In  spite  of  the  objections  that  may  be 
}ffered  to  this  official  apathy  by  the  sentimental  reader,  a  close  ap- 
>ach  has  been  made  among  the  members  of  a  quite  heterogeneous 
ly  to  the  desirable  state  of  peace  and  good  will.  No  control  having 
m  exercised  by  the  faculty,  the  boys  themselves  have  regulated  the 
itter. 

The  custom  of  the  school  from  the  earliest  days  has  been,  when  a  fight 
in  progress,  to  form  a  ring  of  excited  and  vociferous  spectators  around 
le  enraged  pair,  and  to  regard  the  struggle  as  a  gladiatorial  exhibition 
for  the  entertainment  of  the  throng.     The  fighters,  thus  made  the 
iter  of  the  public  interest,  are  usually  impelled  by  self-respect  to 
sperate  efforts;    but  where  this  is  not  so,  the  lookers-on,  feeling 
iselves  defrauded  of  a  proper  gratification,  will  often  insist  upon  a 
mtinuance  of  the  struggle  until  one  or  the  other  of  the  combatants  is 
loroughly  beaten.     Every  boy,  therefore,  feels  he  must  beware  of 
itrance  to  a  fight,  and  all  other  possible  measures  are  usually  tried 
fore  an  appeal  is  made  to  force. 


258  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

I  should  give  a  very  incorrect  impression,  however,  if  I  permitted  it 
to  be  thought  that  the  McDonogh  boys  never  yield  to  ill- temper.  As 
will  presently  appear,  they  are  in  possession  of  an  effective  means  for 
settling  quarrels  over  the  title  to  property,  but  the  punishment  of 
offenders  is  left  to  the  injured  person  and  his  friends.  When,  in  the 
autumn  of  1883,  a  boy  from  the  neighborhood  was  detected  in  robbing 
rabbit  traps,  the  owners  of  the  game  summarily  and  successively  gave 
him  a  beating,  without  the  least  formality  or  authorization.  A  case 
has  also  come  to  my  knowledge  where  a  debtor,  who  had  made  an 
assignment  of  his  property  which  proved  insufficient  to  meet  all  de- 
mands, was  trounced  very  soundly  by  an  angry  creditor.  Another 
debtor  had  exhausted  the  patience  of  his  creditors  by  unfulfilled  prom- 
ises to  pay,  and  was  plainly  told  by  them  at  last  that  unless  his  debts 
were  liquidated  within  two  weeks,  he  must  fight  them  all  in  succession. 

While  such  deeds  of  violence  stand  out  in  the  reader's  mind,  in  the 
daily  life  of  the  boys  they  bear  the  same  insignificant  ratio  to  the  quiet 
whole  that  the  murders  held  up  to  daily  horror  in  the  press  bear  to  the 
humdrum  life  of  the  world.  This  peaceful  condition  appears  in  a  more 
striking  light  when  one  considers  the  great  number  of  questions  for 
dispute  certain  to  arise  in  the  daily  life  of  the  "  McDonogh  boys." 
He  often  hears  discussions  over  the  rights  of  the  rabbit  trappers  to  the 
possession  of  the  land ;  he  can  hardly  fail  to  weigh  the  arguments  by 
which  their  practice  is  attacked  and  defended ;  and  he  is  sure  to  take 
sides  either  for  or  against  them.  The  perplexing  questions  of  the  ad- 
vantages and  disadvantages  of  a  system  of  individual  land  holding  are 
not  the  only  difficulties  with  which  his  sympathies  and  his  reason  have 
to  deal ;  for  the  working  of  the  customs  of  the  school  frequently  forces 
upon  his  notice  intricate  problems  of  right  and  usage.  It  is  apparent 
that  in  the  operation  of  the  somewhat  complicated  system  of  property 
heretofore  described,  it  is  impossible  to  avoid  disputes,  and  other  causes 
of  contention  are  not  wanting.  .  .  . 

Disputes  arising  from  their  peculiar  customs  of  ownership  are  settled 
by  boys  assembling  at  the  place  where  the  controversy  is  carried  on. 
Most  commonly  this  is  in  the  play  room,  where  they  can  be  free  from 
observation.  When  Black  and  Landreth  found  the  nest  of  a  dove  in 
the  pines,  seeing  no  mark  of  prior  owners  upon  the  tree,  they  took  the 
eggs  and  brought  them  to  the  house.  As  they  sat  in  the  play  room  with 
needles  and  straws,  preparing  the  eggs  for  their  cabinet,  Delphey  over- 
heard their  talk,  and  questioned  them  about  the  spot  where  the  nest 
was  discovered.  He  soon  convinced  himself  that  the  nest  was  one 
that  he  had  found  but  a  few  days  before,  and  on  which  he  had  placed 
the  mark  of  himself  and  his  partners.  When  he  was  satisfied  on  that  | 
point,  he  at  once  laid  claim  to  the  eggs.  Landreth  and  Black  angrily 
refused  to  give  them  up,  and  they  were  soon  hot  in  dispute.  Under 


THE  SPONTANEOUS   SOCIAL  LIFE  OF  CHILDREN     259 

the  law  made  for  such  cases  the  question  of  ownership  is  a  nice  one. 

It  is  granted  on  both  sides  that  if  Delphey,  the  first  finder,  is  to  retain 

i  a  good  title,  his  label  must  either  remain  upon  the  trunk  of  the  tree,  or 

else  in  sight  upon  the  ground  beneath,  where  it  has  fallen  by  accident. 

If  neither  alternative  is  complied  with,  any  subsequent  finder  may 

|  either  take  the  nest  or  mark  the  tree  with  his  own  label. 

By  this  time  a  knot  of  a  dozen  boys,  who  had  been  idling  about,  had 
formed  around  Delphey,  listening  intently.  In  a  few  moments  he  called 
Duvall,  his  partner,  for  confirmation,  and  with  the  utmost  particular- 
ity related  the  circumstances  in  which  he  had  found  the  nest.  Del- 
phey told  of  the  route  they  took  over  the  stream,  through  the  swamp, 
and  up  the  hill ;  and  mentioned  the  boys  they  met  on  the  way,  whom 
he  compelled  to  corroborate  his  assertions.  By  the  time  Duvall  takes 
up  the  account,  the  ring  surrounding  them  has  become  larger ;  perhaps 
twenty  boys  have  gathered,  and  they  listen  with  strained  attention. 
He  proceeds  to  describe  the  tree  in  which  the  nest  was  placed,  and 
dwells  with  convincing  minuteness  upon  its  exact  situation,  upon  the 
color  of  the  bark,  the  broken  limb,  the  knot  halfway  up  the  trunk, 
|  and  the  nailing  of  the  label  upon  it.  To  all  his  statements  it  may  be 
i  that  his  adversaries,  Landreth  and  Black,  assent,  only  interjecting 
at  intervals  the  words :  "But  there  wasn't  any  mark  on  the  tree  when 
we  were  there."  The  declarations  of  either  party  are  addressed  as 
much  to  the  throng  around  as  to  their  opponents,  and  it  is  evident,  in 
the  heightened  color  of  the  bystanders,  in  their  sparkling  eyes,  and  in 
their  tense  muscles,  that  to  them  the  question  is  of  absorbing  interest. 
Now  that  the  argument  of  the  plaintiffs  has  been  heard  in  full,  there 
can  be  no  doubt  that  they  marked  the  nest  as  they  declare ;  and  yet 
I  there  is  nothing  to  indicate  that  the  defendants  have  any  intention  of 
restoring  the  property. 

Seeing  the  angry  looks  and  threatening  gestures  of  all  the  group, 
one  who  does  not  know  the  school  may  judge  that  blows  will  follow 
I  next,  and  that  a  general  conflict  is  about  to  ensue  between  the  partisans 
I  of  the  claimants.  Nothing  could  be  farther  from  the  truth.  What  has 
i  occurred  is  but  the  ordinary  proceeding  of  a  very  primitive  court  of 
I  justice.  Delphey  knows  that  Black's  arms  are  strong,  his  fists  hard, 
I  and  his  blows  rapid.  Landreth  has  no  desire  to  risk  the  destruction  of 
his  treasure  in  a  struggle  where,  even  if  he  retains  it,  he  is  sure  to  do  so 
!  at  the  cost  of  bruises  and  blood.  As  he  rises  angrily  from  his  seat  and 
(pushes  through  the  crowd,  he  is  not  seeking  space  in  which  to  fight,  but 
I  a  witness  to  establish  his  title.  This  body  of  spectators,  who  seem 
1  in  tent  upon  hearing  the  whole  matter  and  sifting  it  to  the  bottom,  is — 
if  the  name  will  serve  —  the  folkmote,  the  assembly  of  the  people, 
met  to  see  justice  done  according  to  law.  Each  boy  standing  in  the 
iring  around  the  orators  knows  that  to-morrow  he  may  be  there  to 


260  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

maintain  his  rights  before  a  similar  body,  in  which  the  plaintiff  and! 
the  defendant  of  to-day  will  alike  have  a  voice  to  decide  upon  his  I 
claims.  He  has  a  feeling  that  a  decision  contrary  to  established  cus- 
tom, however  it  may  accord  with  his  momentary  sympathies,  will  be  I 
treated  as  a  precedent  to  overthrow  his  most  cherished  interests,  and! 
to  prevent  the  operation  of  rules  upon  which  he  has  confidently  counted 
in  every  venture  in  which  he  is  engaged.  Every  boy  there  is  deter- 
mined upon  the  entire  preservation  of  the  system  of  law  upon  which  he 
has  based  all  his  hopes  of  filling  his  egg  cabinet. 

We  have  turned  aside  a  moment  from  following  the  actions  of  the 
litigants.  The  clamor  of  voices  rose  louder  as  Landreth  moved  off, 
but  it  subsided  somewhat  as  he  reappeared,  accompanied  by  Miller, 
on  whose  testimony  he  relied.  The  newcomer  rapidly  explained  to  those 
around  him  that  he,  too,  had  seen  the  nest  on  the  day  Landreth  took 
it ;  he  had  examined  the  tree,  and  Delphey's  mark  was  not  upon  it ; 
he  had  searched  the  ground  beneath,  and  could  not  find  the  label  there ; 
he  would  himself  have  carried  off  the  find,  but  for  the  fact  that  he  saw 
only  a  single  egg,  and  thought  it  better  to  put  his  own  claim  mark  upon 
the  trunk,  and  wait  till  more  eggs  were  laid ;  when  he  had  intended  to 
return  and  get  them.  It  had  happened,  however,  that  during  his 
previous  search  for  nests  he  had,  in  marking  other  discoveries,  used  up 
all  of  his  labels  that  he  had  brought  with  him,  and  he  had  therefore 
been  unable  to  appropriate  the  tree  at  the  time.  It  was  after  he  had ' 
gone  away,  and  before  he  could  return  with  a  label,  that  Landreth  had  i 
found  the  nest  and  possessed  himself  of  its  contents,  which  had  mean- 
while been  increased  to  two  eggs  by  the  industrious  bird. 

This  evidence  ended  the  trial.  Loud  cries  arose  from  all  parts  of  i 
the  throng.  "  It's  Doggie's  nest.  It  wasn't  marked  when  he  found 
it,"  said  one  member  of  the  tumultuous  court.  "  Your  mark  was 
blown  away,  Ruffie,"  exclaimed  another.  "  It's  Doggie's  nest."  No 
opposition  of  importance  was  made,  and,  the  decision  being  rendered, 
Delphey  and  his  partner  saw  their  case  was  lost  and  slowly  walked 
away.  Landreth  and  Black,  who  retained  the  eggs,  returned  to  their 
work  of  blowing  them  with  straws.  The  making  of  the  claim,  the 
trial  and  the  decision  occupied  less  than  half  an  hour.  If  not  sure,  this 
justice  is  at  least  swift. 

A  word  may  here  be  given  to  the  ethical  questions  brought  up  by , 
this  decision.     It  was  admitted  by  all  parties  that  two  boys  had  found 
the  nest  before  Landreth  and  Black  had  seen  it.     Landreth's  claims  in 
the  view  of  equity  would  have  to  yield  to  Delphey's,  who  not  only  ,| 
found  the  nest  but  marked  it,  and  who,  in  so  far  as  prior  discovery  gives 
any  rights,  clearly  had  them  all.    Landreth's  title  rested  upon  a 
purely  technical  ground.     Yet,  with  a  characteristic  analogy  to  primi-  : 
tive  habits  of  thought,  it  was  considered  that  the  perfect  title  was  :| 


THE   SPONTANEOUS   SOCIAL  LIFE  OF   CHILDREN     261 

obtained  by  a  literal  fulfillment  of  the  words  of  the  law,  by  an  exact 
compb'ance  with  its  minutest  provisions.  The  law  provided  that  no  one 
should  take  a  nest  when  the  mark  was  on  the  trunk  beneath,  or  in  sight 
upon  the  ground.  As  it  had  been  proved  by  Miller's  testimony  that  Lan- 
dreth  could  not  have  seen  Delphey's  label,  Delphey's  rights  vanished. 

There  can  be  little  doubt  that  the  negligent  driving  of  a  tack  was 
all  that  made  Landreth  the  better  owner  than  Delphey,  and  that 
Landreth  was  perfectly  aware  of  this  fact.  When  the  suitors  and  judges 
were  questioned  as  to  why  such  a  decision  was  given,  the  only  reply  to 
be  obtained  was,  "  That's  the  rule."  Like  Shylock,  Landreth  might 
iave  said :  "  I  stand  here  for  law,"  and  his  determination  was  to 
maintain  to  the  full  every  legal  privilege.  The  idea  that  the  law  might 
e  advantages,  the  use  of  which  morality  could  not  sanction,  is  so 
ate  of  development  in  the  legal  history  of  mankind  that  we  must 
not  regard  the  absence  of  such  a  conception  among  these  boys  as  an 
indication  of  an  abnormally  low  state  of  moral  culture.  To  look  for 
exalted  views  of  right  and  wrong  among  them  would  be  to  expect  them 
to  reverse  the  usual  processes  of  mental  progress. 

I  have  treated  this  incident  at  such  length  because  of  its  typical 
character,  and  of  its  likeness  to  primitive  usage.  If  it  was  an  event 
of  rare  occurrence,  its  significance  would  be  less ;  but  it  is,  in  fact,  an 
example  of  what  occurs  almost  daily  at  McDonogh.  The  crowd  of 
)oys  assembled  about  the  contestants,  whose  verdict  decides  the 
controversy,  is,  in  many  respects,  the  counterpart  of  a  primitive  as- 
sembly of  the  people  on  the  folkmote.  Every  boy  has  the  right  to 
express  an  opinion  and  every  boy  present  exercises  his  privilege,  though 
personal  prowess  and  great  experience  in  matters  of  law  have  their 
:ull  share  of  influence  on  the  minds  of  the  judges.  The  primitive  idea 
that  dispensing  justice  is  a  public  trust,  which  the  community  itself 
must  fulfill  towards  its  members,  is  embodied  in  this  usage  of  the 
"  McDonogh  boys."  The  judges  are  not  arbitrators  chosen  by  the 
disputants,  nor  are  they  public  functionaries,  whose  sole  business  is  to 
:>reside  over  the  courts,  but  the  whole  body  of  the  population  declares 
3y  word  of  mouth  the  right  and  wrong  of  the  matter.  This  tumul- 
tuous body  of  schoolfellows,  giving  decisions  in  quarrels  and  deter- 
mining questions  of  custom,  reproduces,  with  remarkable  fidelity,  the 
Essential  character  of  the  primitive  Assembly. 

John  Johnson,  Johns  Hopkins  University  Studies  in  History  and  Political  Science, 
Second  Series,  No.  XI. 

TOPICS   FOR   STUDY  AND   DISCUSSION 

i.   Make  a  first-hand  study  of  a  boy's  gang:  as  to  its  personnel,  its 
Deader,  its  objects,  its  moral  influence  on  its  members  and  on  others,  etc. 


262  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

2.  The  general  moral  influence  of  the  gang.     Puffer,  Buck,  Chapter 
II. 

3.  To  what  extent  can  the  club  take  the  place  of  the  gang  ?    Buck, 
etc. 

4.  How  organize  a  boy's  club  ?    Buck. 

5.  Let  the  student  analyze  the  industrial,  social  and  moral  situa- 
tion in  a  community  well  known  to  himself,  and  describe  how  he 
might  organize  a  boys'  club  and  what  it  might  accomplish. 

6.  To  what  extent  can  the  boys'  clubs  organized  by  adults  really 
enlist  the  hearty  support  of  boys,  really  utilize  their  group-forming 
instincts  ? 

7.  The  type  of  personality  required  by  the  club  adviser. 

8.  The  origin,  social  significance  and  probable  future  of  the  boy- 
scout  movement. 

9.  What  "primary  ideals"  seem  to  be  fostered  by  the  gang? 
Puffer,  etc. 

10.  How  do  the  primary  ideals  developed  by  the  club  differ  from 
those  of  the  gang? 

11.  Ways  in  which  the  institutionalized  forces  of  education  could 
strengthen  their  work  by  taking  into  account  the  corporate  or  group- 
forming  tendencies  of  youth. 

BIBLIOGRAPHY 

ADDAMS,  JANE.     The  Spirit  of  Youth  and  the  City  Streets. 

BEARD,  A.  E.  S.  "Baden-Powell  boy  scouts,"  World  To-day,  19: 
741-743,  July,  1910.  Good  for  general  reference;  concise  and 
brief. 

BLUMFIELD,  R.  D.    "Boy  scouts,"  Outlook,  95:617-629,  July,  1910. 

BROWN,  L.  E.     The  Ideal  Boys'  Club,  Albany,  New  York.   The  author. 

BROWN,  T.  J.  "The  gang  instinct  in  boys,"  Association  Outlook,  9: 
No.  8. 

BUCK,  WINIFRED.  Boys'  Self -governing  Clubs,  1906.  The  best  ex- 
tended account  of  the  practical  working  of  boys'  clubs. 

CULIN,  S.     "Street  games  of  Brooklyn,"  Jour.  Am.  Folk-Lore,  4 :  221- 

237- 

DURBAN,  W.  "The  boy  scouts  and  boys'  brigades,"  Homiletic 
Review,  60 : 375,  November,  1910. 

ELLIS,  HAVE  LOCK.     The  Criminal,  1900. 
FORBRUSH,  W.  B.     The  Boy  Problem,  1907. 


THE   SPONTANEOUS  SOCIAL  LIFE  OF   CHILDREN     263 

GULICK,  L.  H.  "Psychological,  pedagogical  and  religious  aspects  of 
group  games,"  Fed.  S.,  6 : 134. 

GUNCKEL,  JOHN  E.  Boyville,  1905.  The  work  of  the  newsboys' 
association  of  Toledo.  A  suggestive  study  of  the  character-form- 
ing power  of  corporate  life. 

HARTSON,  L.  D.     "The  psychology  of  the  club/'  Fed.  S.,  18:  353. 

JOHNSON,  JOHN.  "Rudimentary  society  among  boys/'  Johns  Hop- 
kins University  Studies,  Second  Series,  No.  XL  Selections  from, 
reprinted  herewith. 

LINDSEY,  BEN.  B.     "The  gang  and  juvenile  crime,"  Work  with  Boys, 

4:43- 
McCoRMACK,  WILLIAM.     "Results  in  a  boys'  club,"  Work  with  Boys, 

6:171-177. 

O'SHEA,  M.  V.    Social  Development  and  Education,  pp.  302-319. 
POWELL.     The  Knights  of  the  Holy  Grail:  A  solution  of  the  boy  problem. 

PUFFER,  J.  ADAMS.  "Boys'  gangs,"  Pedagogical  Seminary,  12:175- 
212.  A  valuable,  well-known  inductive  study. 

Rus,  JACOB.     The  Children  of  the  Poor,  Chapter  XIII. 

ROGERS,  J.  E.  "The  theory  of  the  boys'  clubs,"  Ed.,  30:40.  Pur- 
pose to  supervise  pleasures,  to  provide^  proper  environment, 
positive  instruction  and  training. 

RUSSELL,  CHARLES  E.  S.,  and  RIGBY,  LILIAN.  Working  Lads1  Clubs. 
A  complete  description  of  the  English  Clubs. 

SEATON,  E.  T.     "Organized  boyhood,"  Success,  December,  1910. 

SHELDON,  H.  D.  "Institutional  activities  of  American  children," 
Am.  J.  Psych.,  1899,  9 : 425-448. 

SYKES,  M.  "Let's  play  Indian," Everybody's,  23:473-483,  October, 
1910. 

WHITE,  WM.  ALLEN.  The  Court  of  Boyville.  The  social  evolution 
of  the  boy  based  on  the  culture-epoch  hypothesis. 

WOODS,  ROBERT  A.     The  City  Wilderness. 

with  Boys,  Vol.  I  (1900), — ,  contains  many  interesting  papers 
not  herein  mentioned,  dealing  with  boys'  clubs. 


CHAPTER   XV 

THE   SOCIAL   LIFE    OF   THE    SCHOOL 

The  Social  Life  of  the  School  and  Social  Education 

IN  a  preceding  section  we  studied  "  primary  groups,"  one  of  the 
fundamental  manifestations  of  social  life.  We  noted  that  "  primary 
groups  "  develop  with  entire  spontaneity  in  childhood  and  youth. 
As  has  been  suggested  the  school,  whatever  its  character  or  its  ideals, 
has  a  corporate  or  group  life,  of  some  sort,  is  in  a  word  a  primary  group 
with  all  the  possibilities  for  shaping  or  misshaping  character,  which 
go  therewith.  This  corporate  life  is,  in  fact,  an  inevitable  outcome 
of  the  bringing  together  of  young  people  for  the  purpose  of  study  and 
training.  It  might  be  called  a  by-product  of  regular  school  activity, 
but  it  is  an  unavoidable  by-product,  and  all  who  are  concerned  with 
education  must  reckon  with  it.  Indeed,  the  very  fact  that  some  sort 
of  corporate  life  tends  to  develop  in  the  school  has  brought  educators 
to  a  recognition  of  the  general  need  that  children  be  trained  along  so- 
cial as  well  as  along  intellectual  lines. 

Well-developed  notions  of  the  significant  social  side  of  school  work 
are  only  beginning  to  make  themselves  felt.  First  there  was  the 
spontaneous  uncontrolled  social  life  of  the  school.  Then  there  was  a 
^growing  recognition  of  the  necessity  of  the  school's  supervising  and 
directing  these  social  tendencies  that  they  might  not  interfere  with 
the  regular  and  proper  work  of  education,  and  last  of  all  the  conviction 
has  gradually  shaped  itself  that  not  merely  must  this  social  life  be 
controlled,  but  also  that  it  should  be  a  part  of  the  function  of  public 
education  to  develop  it,  that  the  educational  ideal  of  social  efficiency 
cannot  be  attained  through  a  purely  intellectual  training  of  youth. 

The  school,  then,  as  a  social  group  presents  important  problems  to 
the  teacher.  It  is  possible  to  study  this  school  life  from  two  fairly  dis- 
tinguishable points  of  view.  First,  there  is  the  social  life  as  a  thing 
in  itself,  a  sort  of  corporate  existence  with  a  definite  character  and 

264 


THE   SOCIAL  LIFE  OF  THE   SCHOOL  265 

mode  of  expression.  Secondly,  there  is  the  problem  of  the  specific  in- 
fluence exerted  by  this  group  life  upon  the  traditional  work  of  teaching 
and  learning.  At  first  thought,  this  last  problem  might  appear  to  be 
j  only  a  special  aspect  of  the  first  one,  but  it  is  really  a  separate  and  even 
larger  question,  having  to  do  with  the  general  social  conditions  of  in- 
tellectual development.1 

The  problem  now  before  us  is  that  of  gaining  a  clear  concept  of  the 
nature  and  significance  of  the  corporate  life  of  the  school,  the  ways  of 
controlling  it,  when  necessary,  and  even  of  systematically  developing 
it  and,  furthermore,  of  the  desirability  and  methods  of  a  social  as  well 
as  an  intellectual  training. 

That  there  is  a  social  life  of  the  school  there  is  no  need  here  to  argue.* 
Whenever  people  of  any  age  come  together  and  work  together  for  any 
length  of  time,  some  sort  of  esprit  de  corps  is  apt  to  develop,  and  it  is 
not  strange  that  it  should  develop  in  the  school.  To  be  sure  this 
I  group  life  varies  in  character  with  the  age  of  the  pupils.  In  the  ele- 
mentary school,  for  instance,  it  consists,  of  little  more  than  a  primitive 
mob  spirit  which  is  manifested  only  ^occasionally.  More  and  more,^ 
as  the  secondary  school  age  is  approached,  does  a  higher  corporate 
life  appear  among  the  pupils.  Its  beginnings  are  to  be  noted  in  gradual 
emergence  of  opinions  of  various  sorts  which  exert  a  marked  control- 
ling influence  upon  each  individual.  The  pupil  gradually  becomes 
conscious  of  a  public  opinion  among  his  associates  to  which  he  must 
bow.  All  sorts  of  organizations,  clubs,  and  cliques  begin  quite  spon- 
taneously to  grow  up.  The  pupils  work  more  and  more  in  groupsX 
Leaders  appear,  and  a  full-fledged  social  life  is  soon  in  full  swing, 
whether  the  teacher  has  given  the  matter  his  attention  or  not.  The 
first  reaction  of  the  teacher  to  this  budding  social  spirit  is  often  a 
feeling  that  it  should  be  suppressed  because  of  interfering  with  the  le- 
gitimate work  of  the  school.  As  soon,  however,  as  it  is  seen  to  be  in- 
evitable, the  thought  comes  that  it  should  at  least  be  controlled,  so  as 
!to  produce  a  minimum  of  distractions  or,  perhaps,  that  it  may  furnish 
a  safety  valve  for  the  bubbling  spirits  of  youth.  There  can  be  no 
I  question  of  the  need  of  this  oversight  and  control,  but  we  are  now  be- 
I  ginning  to  see  that  its  object  is  not  that  of  holding  in  check  a  necessary 
evil.  Instead  of  an  evil,  the  corporate  life  of  the  school  is  one  of  the 

1  The  treatment  of  this  latter  phase  will  be  reserved  for  a  later  section. 


266  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

most  important  opportunities  of  present-day  education.    As  Brown  j 
well  says :  — 

"  There  are  other  factors  besides  discipline  and  good  order  in  the 
^school  that  should  enter  into  the  question  of  its  social  life.  Is  it  not 
possible  so  to  control  and  direct  this  great  adolescent  impulse  that  it 
shall  become  a  valuable  factor  in  the  education  of  boys  and  girls,  both 
from  the  viewpoint  of  their  own  individual  welfare  and  from  that  of 
social  efficiency?  The  dominating  influence  of  the  impulse  seems  to 
challenge  our  ability  to  find  a  valuable  use  for  it  rather  than  to  restrain 
it  merely,  and  from  the  purely  educational  point  of  view  this  is  much 
the  larger  part  of  the  problem.  What  is  the  educational  value  of  the 
social  life  that  is  possible  in  the  high  school?  "  1 

The  social  development  of  the  pupil  is  certainly  scarcely  less  im- 
portant than  his  intellectual  and  moral  training.  In  fact,  it  is  seen 
with  increasing  clearness  that  these  latter  phases  are  in  very  intimate 
ways  dependent  upon  social  factors  and  that  they  are  bound  to  be 
distorted  if  the  social  side  is  ignored. 

It  will  be  well  at  this  point  to  try  to  state  just  what  is  meant  by  so- 
cial education  and  wherein  the  need  for  it  exists.  Abstractly  stated, 
it  may  be  said  that  the  object  of  social  education  is  to  develop  and 
afford  proper  expression  for  a  well-balanced  social  nature.  As  one 
writer  says,2  it  is  the  whole  child  who  goes  to  school,  and  he  must  be 
provided  for  as  a  whole.  School  is  life  only  in  so  far  as  it  provides  for 
all  fundamental  interests  of  those  who  attend.  The  school  brings 
w  children  together  and  it  is  a  part  of  the  school's  duty  to  teach  them  to 
live  together  as  they  will  have  to  live  as  adults,  "serious  and  useful, 
but  also  glad  and  happy  lives." 

The  social  training  needful  is  much  more  than  what  would  be  com- 
prised in  learning  to  conform  to  the  usages  of  polite  society.  What 
we  have  rather  in  mind  is  the  larger  need  of  learning  to  mingle  with 
other  people  and  being  an  effective  member  of  a  social  group.  A  man 
with  ever  so  well  trained  a  mind  will  nevertheless  be  seriously  handi- 
capped if  he  does  not  know  how  to  talk  to  his  fellow-men,  how  to  per- 
suade them,  how  to  cooperate  with  them  in  common  enterprises. 
There  are  a  thousand  things  of  the  utmost  importance  for  a  successful 

1 J.  F.  Brown,  American  High  School. 

2  W.  B.  Owen,  "Social  education  through  the  school,"  School  Review,  Vol.  15,  p.  13. 


THE  SOCIAL  LIFE  OF  THE  SCHOOL  267 

life  which  can  be  learned  only  by  being  an  active  member  of  a  well- 
organized  social  group.  A  man  who  would  succeed  in  any  kind  of 
business  must  know  how  to  meet  people  and  how  to  deal  tactfully 
with  them,  how  to  enjoy  them,  and  his^senafi  of  humor  must  be  keen.  It 
will  be  greatly  to  his  advantage  to  know  how  to  conduct  himself  with- 
out embarrassment  and  with  frankness  and  courtesy  among  those  of 
the  opposite  sex.  In  a  word,  our  truly  successful  man  must  be  good 
jnannered,  sympathetic,  sociable,  human.  The  school  group  affords 
many  opportunities  for  providing  for  just  these  needs,  for  effecting 
a  wholesome  development  of  the  social  nature  of  the  youth.  The 
qualities  enumerated  above,  although  they  rest  upon  instincts,  are 
largely  shaped  by  proper  social  intercourse. 

Nor  are  the  so-called  social  conventionalities  to  be  despised  in  edu- 
cation. They  often  in  themselves  seem  artificial  and  arbitrary  even 
to  the  point  of  absurdity,  but  they  are  safeguards  of  individual  and 
public  morality.  Training  in  social  usages  affords  to  adolescents  a  ^ 
legitimate  outlet  to  impulses,  which  are,  at  their  age,  in  very  definite 
need  of  both  expression  and  regulation.  A  controlled  or  conventiona- 
lized social  life  is  a  safety  valve  for  which  the  school  may  well  do  its 
part  to  provide.  "  The  educational  value  of  experience  in  more  or 
less  formal  life  is  very  great,  especially  for  those  young  people  whose 
social  positions  would  deprive  them  of  it  elsewhere.  Probably  it  is  of 
no  less  value  to  the  children  of  the  rich  or  cultured  if  they  learn  through 
it  the  lesson  of  true  politeness  and  graciousness."  l 

"  What  is  wanted  [then]  is  a  hearty  recognition  of  the  desirability 
of  many  forms  of  social  activity  in  the  high  school,  and  the  active 
participation  of  the  faculty  or  specified  members  thereof  in  their  de- 
velopment. Already  there  are  some  evidences  of  this  in  the  matter 
of  athletics.  Under  a  director  of  physical  education,  having  a  broad 
view  of  the  physiological  and  social  significance  of  sports  and  ath- 
letics, much  can  be  done,  as  experience  shows.  Possibly  in  other 
social  matters  a  large  high  school  could  not  do  better  than  to  develop 
some  kind  of  social  secretary  or  school  visitor  who  should  study  social 
needs  and  cooperate  in  the  realization  of  means  to  meet  them.  In 
some  schools  the  practice  has  arisen  of  having  each  society  which  is 
organized  with  the  school  as  a  basis  select  some  member  of  the  faculty 

1 J.  F.  Brown,  op.  cit. 


268  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

as  an  advisory  or  counseling  member.  This  works  well,  and  the 
teachers  should  be  provided  with  time  and  means  to  cooperate.  In 
small  schools  an  active  principal,  of  course,  keeps  the  advisory  func- 
tions in  his  own  hands,  but  under  present  traditions  he  is  not  always 
sympathetic,  looking  upon  social  activities  as  something  to  be  toler- 
ated, but  not  to  be  encouraged."  1 

It  is  important  to  bear  in  mind  that  the  social  life  of  the  school  is  a 
great  deal  larger  and  more  complex  than  a  mere  series  of  evening 
parties  or  other  so-called  social  functions.  It  is  true  these  may  be 
one  of  the  modes  by  which  that  social  life  finds  expression,  but  there 
are  other  and  even  more  important  modes.  It  is  this  narrower  aspect, 
however,  which  the  superficial  critic  usually  has  in  mind  when  he  urges 
against  the  development  of  the  social  life  of  the  school  that  there  is 
already  too  much  of  that  very  thing.  True  there  may  be  too  many 
parties,  but  there  can  hardly  be  too  much  of  properly  controlled  socia 
life.  At  any  rate  the  social  life  is  there  and  will  remain  there,  and  it  is 
the  abnormal  distorted  phases  which  inevitably  develop,  when  schoo 
officials  refuse  to  recognize  the  societary  character  of  the  school  or 
try  to  suppress  it,  that  are  open  to  criticism.  Of  this  there  may  easily 
be  too  much. 

It  is  the  normal,  healthful,  corporate  life,  which  finds  expression 
in  many  ways,  of  which  each  pupil  is  a  part  and  to  which  each  pupi 
contributes  something  that  is  referred  to  in  this  discussion.  It  re- 
veals itself  in  various  activities  of  the  school  as  a  whole  and  also  in 
all  sorts  of  subsidiary  and  yet  contributing  activities. 

"  The  entire  small  school  may  well  form  the  social  unit.  Even 
in  the  largest  schools  the  whole  must  be  the  unit  whose  interests  domi- 
nate. Smaller  groups  may  be  advantageously  formed,  but  their  ac- 
tivities must  be  properly  limited,  and  they  must  not  be  left  to  run 
themselves  without  the  interest  or  supervision  of  teachers.  .  .  . 

"  These  groups  may  be  organized  with  the  best  purposes,  but  the 
instances  are  extremely  few  in  which  they  can  run  successfully  without 
the  assistance  of  a  wiser  head."  2 

The  subordinate  groups  are  to  be  thought  of  as  expressions  of  dif 
ferentiated  interests,  affording  to  the  several  members  of  the  schoo 

1  Button  and  Snedden,  pp.  379,  380. 

2  J.  F.  Brown,  The  American  High  School,  p.  368. 


THE  SOCIAL  LIFE  OF  THE   SCHOOL  269 

sjroup  opportunity  for  contributing  to  the  general  life  according  to 
;heir  individual  interests  and  capacities.  The  school  may  be  made 
more  of  an  avenue  for  social  training  in  the  best  sense  by  cultivating 
various  expressions  of  general  corporate  life  such  as  are  found  in  ordi- 
nary schools.  Among  these,  the  commonest  and  often  least  appre- 
ciated is  the  school  assembly  for  morning  exercises  and  for  other  simi- 
.ar  functions.  Another  important  expression  of  the  life  of  the  school 
as  a  whole  occurs  in  interschool  contests  in  oratory,  debate  or  ath- 
letics. These  contests  serve  to  bring  out  and  develop  group  feeling 
in  ways  that  are  most  healthful  if  they  are  properly  controlled.  It  is 
not,  however,  the  mere  spirit  as  such  that  is  important,  but  rather 
opportunities  afforded  by  these  strong  general  interests  for  various 
lines  of  cooperative  activity  in  which  the  entire  school  may  participate. 
Here  the  pupils  get  valuable  lessons  in  the  art  of  working  together  and 
subordinating  self-interest  to  the  general  welfare.  There  are  also 
unlimited  opportunities  for  learning  how  to  meet  and  talk  to  people, 
plead  causes,  shape  opinions  of  one's  fellows,  all  of  which  is  indis- 
pensable to  one  who  wishes  to  be  able  to  handle  such  many-sided  vo- 
cations in  present-day  society  as  those  of  the  educator,  doctor,  lawyer, 
minister  or  business  man. 

The  school  festival  as  developed  by  the  Ethical  Culture  School, 
New  York,  is  an  admirable  illustration  of  the  way  the  school  life  may 
find  fruitful  expression. 

"  There  are  two  important  effects  which  may  be  said  to  be  the  basic 
ideas  of  the  festival.  The  one  has  to  do  particularly  with  the  school 
body  as  audience,  the  other  with  those  who  in  any  particular  festival 
are  the  performers.  The  festival  serves  as  a  unifying  influence  which 
is  felt  by  every  one  in  the  school  audience.  This  results  from  the 
fact  that  although  parents  are  welcomed  as  visitors,  the  festival  is 
prepared  for  the  members  of  the  school  and  is  adapted  to  their  needs. 
The  assigning  of  various  festivals  to  grades,  from  different  sections  of 
the  school,  and  treating  the  contributions  of  each  as  that  which  one 
part  of  the  family  gives  to  the  whole,  also  adds  to  this  result.  Thus, 
at  harvest  or  Thanksgiving  time,  the  members  of  the  oldest  class  may 
present  their  message  to  all  their  younger  mates ;  at  Christmas  time 
Ithe  entertainers  are  an  intermediate  grade ;  on  May  Day,  the  pri- 
maries. Then,  again  at  the  Christmas  season,  each  class  may  join 


270  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

in  the  grand  procession,  and  with  gay  costumes,  rollicking  song  or 
simple  action  contribute  its  part  to  the  whole.  Each  gives  what  it 
can,  and  all  receiving  this  in  a  sympathetic  way  are  thus  bound  into 
one  large  family  or  social  group.  The  appreciative  applause  with 
which  the  older  greet  the  younger,  who  in  their  turn  at  the  proper 
time  repay  the  compliment,  gives  rise  to  a  school  feeling  and  pride 
which  is  an  inspiration  and  help  to  all. 

"  Possibly  the  most  important  underlying  idea  is  this :  For  those 
who  are  presenting  the  festival,  there  are  certain  advantages  that  can 
hardly  be  secured  in  any  other  way.  The  responsibility  for  the  occa- 
sion introduces  a  peculiarly  valuable  motive  which  affects  even  the 
most  unresponsive  members  of  the  class.  The  problem  of  learning 
has  a  new  aspect,  for  the  question  of  communication  here  appears 
in  its  best  form.  To  the  performers  comes  a  transforming  standard; 
not  what  we  know,  but  what  we  can  make  others  know ;  not  what  we 
feel,  but  what  we  can  make  others  feel.  Very  soon  arises  a  conscious- 
ness of  that  first  element  of  effective  communication ;  namely,  abso- 
lute clearness  and  definiteness  on  the  part  of  the  one  who  is  to  give  the 
message.  Pupils  become  conscious  of  their  own  weaknesses,  as  they 
strive  to  collect  their  material.  In  the  desire  to  help  others  they  find 
they  must  prepare  themselves.  There  arises  a  spirit  of  self-induced 
activity  which  is  of  the  greatest  value.  Books  are  read,  authorities 
consulted,  pictures  studied,  that  the  teacher  hardly  knows  about."  1 

Aside  from  these  general  expressions  of  group  life  there  are,  as  we 
have  indicated,  the  differentiated  activities  of  various  minor  organiza- 
tions, all,  however,  contributing  something  of  interest  to  the  general 
life  of  the  school.  Of  such  are  the  various  clubs,  athletic,  dramatic, 
debating,  camera  and  musical;  the  chorus,  the  orchestra,  etc.  In 
each  case  something  of  more  or  less  general  interest  is  worked  out  by 
those  specially  adapted  for  it.  A  part  of  the  interest  is  due  to  the 
knowledge  that  they  are  doing  something  in  whose  accomplishment  all 
are  to  some  extent  interested.  In  fact,  the  very  life  of  a  club  depends 
upon  some  degree  of  social  approval — upon  some  recognition  of  social 
service.  "  The  school  must  seek  out  and  develop  lines  of  social  par- 
ticipation, and  must  aim  in  a  friendly  manner  to  aid  those  of  spon- 
taneous development.  Only  thus  can  it  recognize  the  vast  impor- 

1  Peter  Dykema,  Craftsman,  12 :  649,  650. 


THE   SOCIAL  LIFE  OF  THE   SCHOOL  271 

tance  of  this  period  in  social  education.     Social  education  of  the  best 
type  will  not  be  found  in  books,  nor  even  through  the  contact  of  teach-/ 
tors  of  high  social  power.     It  must  be  learned  in  action,  and  the  schools 
^fnust  aid  in  the  development  of  channels  for  these  activities."  1 

In  these  smaller  organizations  there  is  again  abundant  opportunity 
for  the  individual  to  learn  the  lessons  of  the  social  arts  of  conversa- 
tion, of  service,  of  cooperation  and  of  leadership.  It  is  most  important 
that  the  members  of  the  various  subsidiary  organizations  should  feel 
that  what  they  do  is  a  sort  of  specialized  contribution  to  the  common 
life  of  the  school.  In  this  life  of  the  school  as  a  whole  and  of  the  vari- 
ous organizations  within  the  school  there  is  fertile  soil  in  which  primary 
ideals  will  almost  spontaneously  spring  up  and  flourish. 

Aside  from  the  social  training  from  participation  in  the  general  and 
specialized  phases  of  school  life,  some  have  felt  that  there  is  need  for  a 
social  training  in  the  narrower  sense.  Thus  it  is  held 2  that  the  school 
must  provide  for  mere  social  recreation,  and  that  it  should  offer  in  its 
program,  at  stated  intervals,  opportunities  for  social  intercourse  of 
the  more  formal  sort.  The  first  and  most  valuable  result  of  such  op- 
portunities for  social  recreation  is  that  they  satisfy  a  natural  and  harm- 
less desire,  "  and  thus  contribute  to  the  happiness  of  the  individual. 
The  youth  who  has  no  social  life  is  usually  unhappy,  and  is  sometimes 
driven  by  his  solitude  to  unfortunate  habits  of  thought  or  conduct. 
In  mature  life  one  is  glad  to  remember  a  happy  youth  as  well  as  a  happy 
childhood,  and  whatever  contributes  innocently  to  that  end  is  com- 
mendable." 3 

The  average  modern  family,  even  if  it  fully  understood  the  need, 
is  scarcely  able,  financially,  to  provide  properly  for  the  social  recrea- 
tion of  its  children.  The  school  at  least  has  an  opportunity  that  the  * 
home  does  not  have.  The  children  are  already  together  and  are  under 
more  or  less  definite  control.  It  usually  has  some  suitable  places  such  as 
classrooms  or  gymnasium  in  which  social  functions  can  take  place  with 
little  expense  and  under  proper  supervision.  Moreover,  as  Owen  says, 
"  the  natural  companionship  of  the  pupil  is  with  his  schoolmates. 
The  school  society,  in  reality,  is  formed  every  morning  when  the  pupils 

1  Button  and  Snedden,  op.  cit.,  p.  380. 

*  W.  B.  Owen,  "Social  Education  through  the  School,"  School  Review,  Vol.  15. 

8  Brown,  op.  cit.,  p.  311. 


272  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

leave  their  homes,  and  is  dissolved  every  evening  as  they  reach  their 
homes.  The  very  act  of  bringing  the  young  together  for  school  pur- 
poses is  a  stimulus  to  their  social  instincts.  The  school  ought  to  recog- 
nize this,  and  in  connection  with,  and  under  the  control  of,  the  school 
there  ought  to  be  provided  ample  opportunity  for  purely  social  rec- 
reation. This  policy  would  not  contemplate  at  all  the  confusing 
of  two  different  aims,  the  intellectual  and  the  social,  but  the  fusion  of 
the  two  into  a  larger  and  more  inclusive  aim.  I  would  advocate,  to 
be  explicit,  the  introduction  intojthe  program  of  the  school  regular 
social  occasions,  as  stated,  at  reasonably  frequent  intervals.  These 
social  meetings  might  take  whatever  form  the  circumstances  would 
suggest.  They  should  be  conducted  under  school  control  in  such  a 
way  as  to  be  a  source  of  pleasure  to  the  pupils  and  of  real  educational 
value.  Ask  yourselves  about  our  ideals  as  to  the  all-around  training 
of  our  own  children.  Do  we  not  consider  their  social  training  an  es- 
sential element  in  their  future  success,  just  as  essential  as  their  intel- 
lectual training?  Can  we  not  secure  this  training  in  large  measure,  if 
we  but  know  how,  in  connection  with  their  school  life?  We  trust  this 
whole  side  of  education  to  the  family.  But  I  submit  that  the  family 
does  not  and  cannot  control  the  social  training  that  for  good  or  ill 
is  an  inevitable  accompaniment  of  the  gathering  together  of  so  many 
young  people  into  the  school.  Instead  of  deliberately  neglecting 
these  patent  facts,  why  should  we  not  utilize  them  as  a  golden  oppor- 
tunity for  rounding  out  our  educational  scheme?  We  should  thus 
unify  and  enrich  the  life  of  the  children  and  bind  them  by  the  strongest 
ties  to  the  school,  and  the  indirect  influence  of  such  a  course  on  the 
purely  intellectual  work  of  the  school  would  be  of  the  best.  I  know 
of  an  experiment  of  this  kind  in  a  school,  and  I  can  bear  testimony  that 
in  the  opinion  of  teachers  and  pupils  the  experiment  is  an  unqualified 
success. 

•*  "  That  some  such  provision  is  needed  in  our  schools  is  proved  by  the 
development  of  the  high  school  fraternities  and  sororities.  The  real 
meaning  of  these  organizations  is  that  the  pupils  have  in  this  way  at- 
tempted to  provide  just  such  social  opportunities  as  we  have  suggested. 
I.t  is  iolle  to  object  to  them  that  they  are  selfish  and  inadequate,  when 
we  remember  that  they  are  the  creations  of  young  and  inexperienced 
children.  It  is  equally  idle  to  declaim  against  them  unless  we  can 


THE   SOCIAL  LIFE  OF  THE   SCHOOL  273 

provide  some  other  system  that  will  do  for  all  what  they  do  for  some. 
I  am  strongly  opposed  to  the  fraternity  system  in  our  schools,  but  I 
hope  that  I  am  not  bigoted  on  the  question.  My  fundamental  and 
single  objection  to  them  is  the  fact  that  they  organize  the  school  on  a 
social  basis  that  is  narrow  and  selfish.  I  can  conceive,  however,  a 
social  organization  of  the  school  in  which  they  might  possibly  be  of 
but  little  significance.  But  as  long  as  the  life  of  the  school  is  what  it 
now  is,  they  serve  but  to  emphasize  our  neglect.  I  can  appreciate  the 
theoretical  defense  made  in  their  behalf  by  a  culture-epoch  theory  of 
history.  The  simple  fact  is  that  they  stand  in  the  way  of  a  social 
organization  of  the  school  that  shall  provide  for  all  free  expressions  to 
social  instinct,  controlled  development  of  social  power,  and  a  happy 
enjoyment  of  the  society  of  one's  fellows.  The  best  way  to  deal  with 
the  school  fraternity  is  to  beat  it  at  its  own  game. 

"Other  vexed  questions  of  school  policy  and  management  find  a  rea- 
sonable solution  when  viewed  from  this  standpoint.  School  athletics 
are  an  instance  in  point.  As  at  present  conducted,  they  are  for  the 
selected  few.  All  that  is  said  for  them  as  developing  individual  cour- 
age and  prowess  and  as  focusing  at  times  the  spirit  of  the  school  could 
as  well  be  said  were  they  but  incidental  to  a  larger  athletic  life  in 
which  all  could  participate.  Provision  for  supervised  and  directed 
play  for  all  pupils  is  the  ideal,  not  toward  which  we  should  strive,  but 
with  which  we  should  begin.  We  talk  a  great  deal  about  the  play 
instinct  and  its  place  in  intellectual  and  social  development.  But  we 
promote  a  system  of  school  athletics  that  throws  our  theories  to  the 
winds.  Let  some  one  of  our  schools  set  itself  resolutely  to  experiment 
with  this  problem  and  give  us  all  the  benefit  of  the  results.  Could  we 
ask  for  a  better  chance  to  provide  social  and  moral  training  than 
might  be  found  on  a  well-equipped  playground  under  the  control  of 
rightly  trained  instructors?  The  park  commissioners  have  recognized 
the  opportunities,  even  if  the  board  of  education  has  not. 

"If  the  point  of  view  we  have  developed  is  correct,  what  shall  we  say 
of  coeducation  in  the  schools?  The  problem  is  not  an  easy  one,  and 
it  bids  fair  to  become  more  difficult  with  the  growing  complexity  of  our 
life.  Admitting,  then,  the  difficulties  to  exist,  what  shall  be  our 
method  of  procedure?  We  have  a  system  thoroughly  established  — 
at  least  in  the  schools  of  the  Middle  West.  In  the  main,  it  has  worked 
T 


274  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

satisfactorily.  Now  that  we  are  conscious  of  certain  unfavorable 
tendencies  and  results,  what  should  be  our  recourse?  Should  we 
hastily  retrace  our  steps  and  abandon  what  we  have  already  gained? 
Should  we  not  rather  ask  ourselves  if  these  shortcomings  of  the  sys- 
tem are  not  due  to  the  neglect  to  round  out  and  complete  it?  I  pre- 
fer to  believe  that  the  latter  is  the  way  of  wisdom.  Mechanically  to 
mass  boys  and  girls  together  in  a  classroom  or  in  the  halls  is  not  co- 
education. The  problem  does  not  have  its  origin  in  the  classroom. 
It  is  pushed  in  from  outside.  Not  originating  there,  it  cannot  be  solved 
there.  It  is  a  problem  again  of  the  organization  of  the  whole  school 
life.  Why  can  we  not  realize  what  the  problem  is  and  adopt  direct 
means  to  solve  it  instead  of  evading  or  retreating?  Boys  and  girls 
v  should  be  taught  to  live  and  work  together  as  they  will  be  called  upon 
to  live  and  work  in  life." 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  specify  at  length  the  objections  to  an  un- 
controlled social  life  in  the  school.  As  suggested  in  the  above  quota- 
tion, the  fraternity  is  one  of  the  results.  In  general,  lack  of  control 
results  in  the  development  of  factions  and  cliques.  A  school  with 
such  a  social  life  is  more  open  to  the  lower  aspects  of  suggestion.  A 
distinctly  low  plane  of  sociality  develops.  The  pupils  get  no  well- 
balanced  social  education.  Some  are  crowded  out  and  others  appro- 
priate the  lion's  share  of  the  privileges  that  should  be  for  all  alike. 

In  the  pages  which  follow  is  described  the  practical  experience  of 
one  school  which  has  attempted  to  provide  for  the  social  needs  of  its 
pupils. 

The  Social  Organization  of  the  High  School 

That  the  school  is  a  society,  that  the  child  is  a  social  being,  that 
education^is  not  preparation  for  life,  but  life  itself,  are  statements 
found  In  "many  oft-recurring  forms  in  the  literature  of  pedagogy. 
Of  the'tnith  of  the  principle  involved,  there  can  be  no  doubt.  In 
recent  times  the  curriculum  of  the  secondary  school  has  been  ex- 
amined in  the  light  of  this  doctrine,  and  important  modifications  have 
been  made  involving  the  dropping  of  some  subjects,  the  addition  of 
others,  and  marked  changes  in  methods  of  instruction.  But  no  one 
will  declare  that  with  all  these  changes  on  the  formal  side  our  high 
schools  are  now  making  adequate  provision  for  the  social  training  of 
their  pupils. 


THE  SOCIAL  LIFE  OF  THE  SCHOOL  275 

X  Sociability  is  a  marked  characteristic  of  the  period  of  adolescence. 
Young  people  of  this  age  form  natural  groups  for  team  games,  for 
literary  and  artistic  pursuits  of  a  more  or  less  serious  nature,  and  for 
less  serious  enjoyments  such  as  dancing.  The  reason  underlying  the 
formation  of  all  these  groups  is  their  desire  to  be  together.  The 
home  is  able  to  provide  for  these  social  enjoyments  only  in  a  small 
degree,  and  in  most  cases  does  not  do  so  at  all.  The  church  does 
something  in  this  direction  for  those  whom  it  is  able  to  reach.  Some 
churches  have  formed  clubs  for  their  boys  and  girls  which  in  a  meas- 
ure satisfy  the  social  needs  of  a  few,  but  these  organizations  are  usually 
restricted  by  lack  of  suitable  leaders  and  of  the  facilities  required  to 
give  variety  and  permanent  attractiveness  to  their  work.  The 
Young  Men's  Christian  Association  also  partly  meets  the  needs  of 
many.  But  the  street  corner,  vacant  lot,  billiard  hall,  and  some- 
times less  desirable  places  are  often  the  only  places  in  which  this 
natural  instinct  finds  unrestricted  opportunity  for  development. 
Under  these  conditions  it  is  small  wonder  that  the  satisfaction  of  this 
desire  for  social  activity  on  the  part  of  young  people  often  takes 
forms  annoying  to  the  older  and  more  serious  members  of  the  com- 
munity, if  not  positively  harmful  to  the  young  people  themselves. 
But  while  the  home,  the  church  and  similar  organizations  are  unable 
to  meet  the  social  needs  of  the  adolescent  boy  and  girl,  the  high  school 
is  peculiarly  adapted  to  this  end.  It  is  the  natural  center  for  the 
promotion  and  proper  regulation  of  this  side  of  the  pupil's  life.  Thrown 
together  intimately  during  a  large  part  of  their  waking  hours,  the 
pupils  most  naturally  form  their  social  groups  from  their  school- 
fellows. The  classes  form  natural  units  for  competition  in  athletic 
games;  the  pupil's  interest  in  literary,  musical  or  artistic  activities 
often  makes  it  possible  to  turn  his  social  instincts  in  directions  which 
promote  his  intellectual  and  aesthetic  development.  There  is  also 
the  additional  advantage  that  the  authority  of  the  teachers,  which 
controls  the  pupils  as  no  authority  outside  of  school  does,  if  extended 
sympathetically  to  the  social  life  of  the  pupils,  assures  a  better  regu- 
lation than  can  possibly  be  provided  in  any  other  way. 

It  is  apparent  that  the  high  school  has  generally  failed  to  recog- 
nize its  responsibility  in  this  direction.  Athletic,  literary,  debating, 
musical  and  art  clubs,  with  the  other  forms  of  social  activity  natural 
to  this  period,  are  seldom  thought  of  by  school  authorities  as  a  means 
of  securing  an  important  educational  end.  Save  as  a  principal  or 
teacher  has  a  chance  to  interest  himself  in  some  particular  form  of  the 
social  life  of  his  pupils,  little  attention  is  paid  to  those  features  of  school 
life  except  to  repress  or  control  their  troublesome  developments. 
For  proof  of  this,  one  need  only  look  through  the  proceedings  of  our 
educational  societies  and  the  periodicals  of  secondary  education, 


276  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

where  he  will  find  numerous  articles  dealing  with  the  pathological 
side  of  the  situation.  Prominent  among  these  are  numerous  papers 
dealing  with  the  difficulties  arising  from  the  financial  mismanagement 
of  school  athletics  and  the  low  standards  of  sportsmanship  prevailing 
in  high  schools.  Perhaps  the  best  illustration  of  the  serious  conse- 
quences of  the  prevalent  attitude  of  school  authorities  toward  these 
matters  is  found  in  the  school  fraternity,  which  grew  up  and  flourished 
recently  in  response  to  a  real  need  of  the  pupils  for  the  satisfaction  of 
.  which  the  school  made  no  provision.  But  neither  the  difficulties 
v  p  connected  with  school  athletics  nor  the  more  serious  ones  of  the  school 
fraternity  can  be  permanently  removed  by  the  method  of  repression. 
Unless  we  give  more  serious  and  intelligent  consideration  to  the  real 
nature  of  the  problem,  we  shall  find  ourselves  before  long  confronted 
by  the  same  difficulties  in  another  form.  We  cannot  change  the 
nature  of  the  boy,  nor  should  we  try  to  do  so.  Only  as  we  come  to 
understand  him  and  work  sympathetically  with  him  can  we  expect 
to  secure  peace  for  ourselves  and  an  adequate  social  training  for  him. 
"  i  The  English  public  schools  since  the  time  of  Arnold  have  recog- 
nized the  importance  of  sports  in  developing  the  many  qualities 
which  make  for  sound  character.  One  need  only  visit  the  playing 
fields  of  Rugby  on  an  afternoon  of  a  half  holiday  and  watch  the  boys  • 
at  play,  or  walk  through  the  cricket  clubhouse  where  no  lockers  are 
necessary  to  insure  the  security  of  one's  possessions,  to  realize  that 
there  are  standards  of  honesty  and  sportsmanship  attainable  among 
boys  which  we  have  as  yet  hardly  dared  to  hope  for.  It  is  true  that 
the  boys  in  these  schools  come  from  a  distinct  social  class  and  present 
a  homogeneity  of  ideal  and  training  which  is  found  in  none  of  our  pub- 
lic high  schools  and  is  only  approached  in  a  few  of  our  private  schools; 
yet  the  traditions  and  practices  of  the  great  public  schools  of  England 
are  the  result  of  an  appreciation  of  the  possibilities  of  utilizing  the 
natural  social  instincts  of  the  boys  and  of  a  definite  plan  of  organi- 
zation for  the  purpose  of  securing  through  these  the  best  possible 
training  for  the  leaders  of  the  next  generation.  Of  late,  notable 
success  has  been  secured  in  the  same  direction  in  the  English  mu- 
nicipal day  schools,  which  are  very  much  like  our  public  high  schools. 
The  most  valuable  lesson  which  we  may  learn  from  the  English 
schools  is  in  their  recognition  of  the  value  of  the  more  purely  social 
activities  as  a  means  of  training  the  youth  and  in  their  method  of 
organizing  these  activities  in  such  a  way  as  to  secure  the  best  results. 
In  this  country  many  schools  have  adopted  elaborate  systems  of 
social  organization  called  "  school  cities"  and  generally  spoken  of 
under  the  rather  misleading  caption  of  "student  self-government." 
These  have  consciously  imitated  the  forms  of  organization  of  mature 
society,  particularly  on  the  repressive  side,  with  policemen  and  courts 


THE  SOCIAL  LIFE  OF  THE  SCHOOL  277 

of  justice  through  which  offenders  against  the  requirements  of  the 
school  society  are  detected,  apprehended,  tried  and  sentenced  by 
their  fellows.  It  is  claimed  that  practical  civics  may  best  be  taught 
in  this  way,  that  pupils  develop  greater  independence,  a  higher  sense 
of  honor,  and  more  consideration  for  the  rights  of  others.  These 
desirable  ends  have  doubtless  been  secured  through  the  operation  of 
the  plan  under  favorable  conditions.  However,  its  adoption  by 
teachers  who  had  not  considered  sufficiently  the  details  of  the  plan 
or  by  those  who  were  not  adapted  to  this  peculiar  method  of  control 
has  led  in  many  cases  to  its  failure  and  abandonment.  In  the  last 
analysis  there  is  no  such  thing  as  successful  student  self-government. 
The  guiding  personality  of  the  teacher,  however  tactfully  he  may 
conceal  himself,  is  the  one  feature  to  its  success.  It  may  further  be 
said  that  this  form  of  organization  is  highly  artificial,  and  the  duties 
which  the  pupils  assume  with  the  offices  to  which  they  are  elected 
are  likely  to  become  uninteresting  and  arduous. 

After  all,  the  school  city  does  not,  as  an  essential  part  of  its  opera- 
tion, make  provision  for  those  natural  social  activities  to  which  I 
have  just  referred  as  so  prominent  in  the  life  of  the  English  public 
school.  In  these,  the  house,  in  which  from  forty  to  sixty  boys  live, 
forms  the  natural  unit  of  organization  of  the  social  life.  On  entrance 
to  school  a  boy  is  placed  in  a  certain  house  of  which  he  continues  to 
be  a  member  so  long  as  he  remains  in  the  school.  In  this,house  center 
all  his  social  interests  and  enthusiasms.  For  its  honor  he  contends 
in  football,  cricket  and  the  other  forms  of  contests,  feeling  greater 
concern  only  for  the  honor  of  his  school  as  a  whole.  The  same  method 
of  organization  has  been  employed  in  many  English  day  schools,  the 
boys  being  divided  into  groups  called  "  houses/7  carrying  over  this 
name  from  the  boarding  schools,  although  of  course  the  boys  do  not 
live  together  in  separate  houses.  Among  the  advantages  of  this 
method  of  organization  are  the  following:  the  houses  form  units  of 
convenient  size  and  provide  a  large  number  of  positions  in  which 
boys  are  learning  how  to  be  effective  leaders ;  the  permanency  of  the 
group  makes  it  possible  to  build  up  strong  and  helpful  traditions; 
the  presence  in  the  same  house  of  boys  at  all  stages  of  advancement 
brings  the  younger  boys  into  intimate  relation  with  their  leaders  and 
provides  for  the  control  of  the  younger  by  the  older  boys. 

The  house  method  with  some  modification  has  been  adopted  in 
some  of  our  American  boarding  schools,  but  it  is  not  adapted  to  con- 
ditions in  our  high  schools.     What  we  may  learn  from  the  English 
school  is  not  so  much  in  the  direction  of  formal  organization  as  in  the  , 
attitude  of  the  teachers  toward  the  social  life  of  the  boys.     In  England^ 
the  secondary  school  teacher  feels  it  as  much  a  part  of  his  work  to 
share  in  the  sports  of  his  boys  on  the  playground  as  to  instruct  them 


2 78  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

in  the  classroom.  It  is  not  difficult  to  trace  to  its  own  source  the 
real  reason  why  sport  is  enjoyed  by  English  boys  for  its  own  sake 
and  why  the  low  standards  of  honesty  and  sportsmanship  so  often 
found  in  American  schools  are  not  to  be  found  there.  Instead  of 
placing  our  teachers  in  responsible  charge  of  the  boys  at  their  games, 
more  often  we  leave  them  without  supervision  or  give  them  into  the 
hands  of  professional  coaches  whose  personal  habits  are  frequently 
questionable  and  whose  chief  desire  is  that  their  team  may  win  at 
whatever  cost.  It  is  absolutely  essential  to  the  proper  organization 
and  control  of  the  social  activities  of  the  high  school  that  the  teachers 
shall  recognize  their  value  and  share  in  the  responsibility  and  labor 
involved.  It  is  only  fair  to  expect  that  time  and  effort  spent  by 
teachers  in  these  directions  shall  be  taken  into  consideration  in  the 
amount  of  other  work  assigned  in  the  more  formal  work  of  teaching. 
No  such  basis  as  the  English  schools  find  in  their  house  plan  for 
the  formation  of  suitable  groups  seems  to  be  at  hand  in  our  high 
schools.  The  classes  form  natural  groups  around  which  certain 
social  activities  center,  but  in  the  various  literary,  scientific,  musical 
and  other  clubs,  no  such  basis  of  selection  is  appropriate.  Here 
similarity  of  interests  seems  to  offer  the  only  basis  for  the  formation 
of  groups.  One  principle  must  be  insisted  upon,  that  all  except  class 
clubs  shall  be  open  to  all  members  of  the  school,  both  pupils  and 
teachers. 

The  details  of  organization  adapted  to  any  individual  school  may 
best  be  worked  out  by  those  in  charge.  It  may  not  be  inappropriate 
to  state  with  some  completeness  the  methods  employed  and  the 
results  secured  in  the  school  with  which  the  writer  is  connected. 
The  University  High  School,  Chicago,  is  a  day  school  of  six  hundred 
pupils  of  whom  about  two  thirds  are  boys.  The  school  aims  to  pro- 
v/ vide  for  all  the  proper  social  activities  of  its  pupils.  These  activities 
/are  in  charge  of  four  committees  of  the  faculty  as  follows :  Committee 
on  Athletics  and  Games,  Committee  on  Literary  Clubs,  Committee 
on  Science  and  Art  Clubs,  Committee  on  Student  Publications.  The 
following  rules  have  been  adopted  governing  all  clubs  in  the  school : 
(i)  All  clubs  have  faculty  advisers.  (2)  No  club  holds  its  meetings 
in  the  evening.  (3)  New  clubs  to  be  formed  must  obtain  the  approval 
of  the  appropriate  faculty  committee.  (4)  All  clubs  in  arranging  for 
the  time  of  meeting  must  consult  the  appropriate  faculty  committee. 
(5)  The  days  of  meeting  of  the  different  clubs  are :  Monday  —  Music 
Clubs ;  Tuesday  —  Science  and  Literary  Clubs ;  Wednesday,  Arts 
and  Crafts  Clubs ;  Thursday  —  Debating  Clubs ;  Friday  —  Parties. 
r  It  is  apparent  that  these  activities  are  under  careful  supervision. 
This,  of  course,  does  not  mean  that  the  teachers  exert  a  repressive 
influence  that  robs  the  social  life  of  the  pupils  of  its  natural  spon- 


THE   SOCIAL  LIFE   OF  THE   SCHOOL  279 

taneity.  They  are  rather  helpful  advisers  sharing  with  the  pupils  in 
their  enjoyment  of  their  social  life.  The  requirement  that  all  meet- 
ings of  clubs  shall  be  in  the  daytime  removes  many  difficulties  that 
are  found  where  pupils  gather  in  the  evening.  All  meetings  are  held 
on  the  school  premises,  the  usual  hour  being  three  o'clock,  the  hour 
when  the  session  of  the  day  ends.  The  schedule  providing  for  meet- 
ings of  certain  groups  of  clubs  on  certain  days  makes  it  possible  for 
a  pupil  to  belong  to  clubs  of  various  sorts  and  thus  extend  his  social 
activities  more  widely  than  he  otherwise  might. 

Athletics  naturally  interest  the  greatest  number  of  both  boys  and 
girls.  For  the  boys,  athletics  include  football,  baseball,  track,  basket 
ball,  swimming,  golf,  tennis  and  gymnastics;  for  the  girls  there  are 
basket  ball,  baseball,  hockey,  tennis,  golf,  swimming,  track  and 
gymnastics.  These  sports  are  in  charge  of  the  Department  of  Phys- 
ical Instruction,  which  consists  of  two  men  and  two  women  who 
devote  all  their  time  to  the  physical  training  of  the  pupils  with  such 
assistants  as  are  necessary  to  secure  careful  supervision  of  all  games. 
There  are  contests  throughout  the  entire  year  in  these  various  sports, 
out  of  doors  when  the  weather  is  suitable  and  indoors  at  other  times. 
Most  of  the  contests  are  between  different  teams  of  the  school.  For 
these  teams  the  classes  form  the  basis  of  division,  though  the  num- 
ber of  teams  from  a  given  class  is  not  confined  to  one  in  each  sport. 
For  example,  in  the  autumn,  in  football  each  class  has  its  first  and 
second  teams.  Definite  schedules  are  played  by  the  boys'  class  teams 
in  football,  baseball,  track  (both  indoor  and  outdoor),  basket  ball, 
and  tennis,  and  by  the  girls7  teams  in  basket  ball,  swimming  and 
tennis.  With  competition  running  high  for  places  on  these  different 
teams  and  with  daily  practice  or  games,  it  will  be  seen  that  every 
afternoon  throughout  the  entire  year  finds  a  large  number  both  of 

/the  boys  and  of  the  girls  engaged  in  competitive  games  of  some  sort. 

ADuring  the  autumn  of  last  year  there  were  eight  football  teams  prac- 
ticing and  playing  regularly.  It  is  possible  in  this  way  to  rob  of  all 
weight  the  objection  that  athletics  actually  furnish  physical  training 
only  to  a  few  pupils  and  those  the  ones  who  least  need  it.  While  the 
school  does  not  yet  secure,  as  do  the  English  public  schools,  that 
each  pupil  who  is  physically  able  shall  compete  regularly  in  some 
form  of  athletic  sport,  yet  a  large  part,  both  boys  and  girls,  actually 
do  engage  in  such  sport  with  regularity  under  careful  supervision. 

While  in  most  schools  interschool  games  with  the  preparation  of 
the  teams  for  these  contests  comprise  all  the  athletic  training  and 
are  participated  in  by  a  very  small  number  of  pupils,  in  the  Univer- 
sity High  School  the  interschool  games  comprise  but  a  small  part  of 
those  actually  played.  For  example,  last  autumn,  while  there  were 
more  than  one  hundred  boys  who  played  in  football  games,  there 


280  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

were  only  four  games  played  with  teams  from  other  schools.  In  some 
other  forms  of  sport  the  number  of  interschool  games  was  larger  than 
in  football,  but  in  all  the  sports  the  number  of  games  played  between 
teams  within  the  school  was  much  in  excess  of  those  played  with 
teams  from  other  schools.  It  has  been  urged  that  distinct  advantage 
would  be  gained  if  all  interschool  athletic  games  could  be  given  up 
and  all  contests  be  confined  to  teams  within  the  school.  The  high 
schools  of  one  city  have  tried  this  plan,  and  reports  indicate  that  the 
results  have  been  most  satisfactory.  This  is  doubtless  an  effective 
method  of  getting  rid  of  the  serious  difficulties  that  have  attended 
interschool  games  in  the  past.  But  these  difficulties  are  not  without 
possibility  of  remedy,  and  giving  up  interschool  contests  is  a  distinct 
loss  to  a  school.  Dr.  Gulick  has  shown  that  while  the  physical  results 
of  interschool  athletics  are  inconsiderable,  the  chief  end  sought  in 
these  contests  is  not  physical,  but  social  and  moral,  training  in  which 
the  whole  school  shares.  By  being  loyal  to  his  school,  whether  a 
member  of  a  team  or  not,  a  boy  is  developing  "  the  qualities  of  loyalty, 
of  social  morality  and  of  social  conscience.  These  are  the  essential 
elements  out  of  which  social  loyalty  and  morality  may  be  developed." 
With  clear  vision  and  firm  insistence  upon  high  standards  of  sports- 
manlike conduct  on  the  part  of  athletic  teams,  school  officers  may 
lay  the  foundation  of  traditions  for  clean  and  gentlemanly  sport 
which  every  member  of  the  school,  as  well  as  the  members  of  the 
team,  will  take  pride  in  maintaining.  Not  many  years  ago  the 
annual  football  game  between  two  schools  was  attended  with  a 
general  fight  between  the  supporters  of  the  opposing  teams  in  which 
it  was  necessary  for  the  police  to  take  a  hand,  followed  in  the  dark- 
ness of  night  by  defacement  of  the  walls  of  the  school  buildings  by 
the  painting  of  opprobrious  epithets.  Last  autumn  on  the  evening 
before  the  game  between  these  same  schools,  the  members  of  one 
team  were  entertained  at  dinner  by  the  members  of  the  other,  and 
while  the  game  was  attended  by  intense  enthusiasm  on  the  part  of 
the  supporters  from  each  school,  there  were  none  of  the  unfortunate 
occurrences  of  the  former  year,  and  the  two  schools  actually  cheered 
for  each  other  more  than  once  during  the  game.  There  is  no  doubt 
that  here  was  a  distinct  gain  in  social  morality  on  the  part  of  some 
two  thousand  young  people  which  was  worth  much  effort  to  secure 
and  which  could  not  have  been  gained  except  through  the  agency  of 
carefully  conducted  interschool  athletics.  In  order  to  establish  the 
relation  of  host  and  guest  between  the  opposing  teams,  in  the  con- 
tract for  two  games  in  successive  years  with  the  only  team  outside 
Chicago  with  which  our  team  will  play,  there  is  a  specific  agreement 
that  the  home  team  shall  entertain  their  visitors  socially  at  dinner  on 
the  evening  before  the  game. 


THE   SOCIAL  LIFE  OF  THE   SCHOOL  281 

|'\-At  the  close  of  the  season  for  each  sport,  school  emblems  are 
j  awarded  to  members  of  the  teams  which  have  represented  the  school, 
j  and  to  the  class  teams  the  privilege  of  wearing  the  class  numeral  is 
I  given.     These  are  voted  by  the  faculty  committee  on  athletics  on 
the  recommendation  of  the  member  of  the  Department  of  Physical 
Training  in  charge  of  the  team  and  the  captain  of  the  team.     In 
j  awarding  these  emblems,  faithfulness  in  training  and  in  practice  and 
loyalty  to  the  team  and  school  are  fundamental  requirements  which 
are  considered  in  addition  to  ability  and  performance  in  the  games. 
It  has  happened  that  an  athlete  of  exceptional  ability  has  failed  to 
receive  an  emblem  because  he  did  not  meet  the  high  standard  set 
outside  that  for  mere  ability  in  the  sport.     When  it  is  also  considered 
I  that  the  privilege  of  representing  the  school  in  any  form  depends 
upon  the  satisfactory  performance  of  scholastic  work,  it  will  be  under- 
stood that  the  school  emblem  is  perhaps  the  most  coveted  possession 
one  may  secure.     At  the  last  assembly  of  each  quarter  the  successes 
|  of  the  teams  are  recounted  by  their  fellows,  and  the  members  are 
called  upon  the  platform,  where,  amid  great  enthusiasm,  they  receive 
their  emblems.     But  opportunity  is  never  lost  at  these  times  to  point 
1  out  the  real  meaning  of  the  occasion  and  to  restate  and  strengthen  the 
traditions  for  manly  sport  that  are  becoming  every  year  more  effective 
j  in  the  school. 

While  athletics  probably  engage  a  larger  amount  of  time  and 

i  interest  than  all  other  forms  of  social  life  combined,  provision  is  made 

for  a  great  variety  of  social  activity  of  other  sorts.     Debating  is 

carried  on  in  class  clubs  which  meet  at  regular  intervals  and  in  the 

i  Clay  Club,  an  organization  which  dates  from  the  first  year  of  the 

school.     Debates  are  held  each  year  with  other  schools,  for  which  the 

kdebaters  are  selected  by  competition  open  to  the  entire  school.     After 

I  the  contests  the  sting  of  defeat  as  well  as  the  elation  of  victory  is 

tempered  by  bringing  the  representatives  of  the  two  schools  together 

socially  on  the  basis  of  guest  and  host.     The  Engineering  Club  holds 

I  regular  meetings  throughout  the  year,  at  which  reports  are  made  and 

papers  read  both  by  members  of  the  Club  and  by  others.     The  Camera 

j  and  Sketch  clubs  interest  many,  and  make  creditable  exhibits  of  their 

j  work  at  the  end  of  the  year  which  attract  the  attention  not  only  of 

I  members  of  the  school,  but  of  many  visitors.     The  Dramatic  Club 

j  supplements  regular  work  given  to  an  elective  class  in  connection  with 

!  the  English  Department.     Perhaps  the  most  creditable  public  per- 

\  formance  connected  with  all  the  social  work  of  the  school  has  been 

l  the  annual  dramatic  entertainment,  which  attracts  a  large  and  appre- 

i  ciative  audience.     Two  short  plays,  of  high  literary  and  artistic  merit, 

i  are  presented,  the  object  being  to  provide  opportunity  for  as  large  a 

number  as  possible  to  share  the  benefits  resulting  from  this  training. 


282  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

Competent  judges  select  the  participants  in  trials  open  to  all  pupils 
of  the  school.  There  are  various  musical  clubs,  both  vocal  and  in- 
strumental, which  meet  regularly  and  furnish  music  for  the  school 
assemblies  and  various  public  occasions.  Modern  language  clubs  make 
agreeable  social  adjuncts  to  the  classroom  work  in  these  departments. 

Reference  has  been  made  to  the  classes  as  forming  natural  group 
divisions  in  athletics.  These  are  also  used  for  debating,  music,  class 
parties,  etc.  Class  meetings  give  excellent  opportunities  for  gaining 
knowledge  and  practice  in  parliamentary  usage.  Class  elections  are 
always  held  by  ballot  in  the  school  office.  Nominations  are  made  by 
a  committee  elected  by  the  class,  and  additional  nominations  may  be 
made  by  petition  signed  by  ten  members  of  the  class.  In  practice 
this  method  of  nomination  is  always  employed. 

There  are  three  student  publications, — a  daily  newspaper,  a  monthly 
devoted  to  literary  work,  and  an  annual  of  the  usual  sort.  Each  of 
these  is  under  the  careful  supervision  of  a  teacher.  The  daily  is  a 
four-page  sheet  which  covers  in  a  thorough  manner  the  daily  hap- 
penings of  the  school  and  also  serves  as  a  bulletin  for  announcements 
to  pupils  and  faculty.  A  separate  group  of  editors  has  charge  of 
each  day's  issue  during  the  week,  thus  distributing  the  work  so  that 
it  is  not  excessive.  The  material  used  in  the  monthly  is  selected  from 
the  regular  theme  work  of  the  class. 

The  Students'  Council  is  an  organization  consisting  of  fifteen  mem- 
bers, comprising  the  presidents  of  each  of  the  four  classes  and  four 
members  of  the  senior  class,  three  members  of  the  junior  class,  and 
two  members  each  from  the  sophomore  and  freshman  class.  It  is 
thus  a  representative  group  of  the  entire  school.  Regular  meetings 
are  held  at  which  matters  of  general  interest  to  the  school  are  dis- 
cussed. Recommendations  from  the  students  to  the  faculty  are  made 
through  the  medium  of  the  council.  Measures  under  consideration 
by  the  faculty  are  sometimes  referred  to  the  council  and  their  opinion 
sought.  Aside  from  these  deliberative  functions,  the  council  nomi- 
nates the  candidates  for  managers  of  the  various  athletic  teams  before 
their  election  by  the  Faculty  Committee  on  Athletics  and  Games. 
*  A  group  of  "  honor  societies  "  presents  what  is,  perhaps,  a  unique 
feature  in  the  high  school.  One  of  these,  open  both  to  boys  and 
girls,  is  based  on  scholarship.  Its  object,  as  stated,  is  to  maintain 
the  standard  of  scholarship  and  to  promote  good  fellowship  among 
the  members  of  the  school.  Election  to  this  is  confined  to  members 
of  the  senior  class  who  have  been  members  of  the  school  not  less  than 
two  years,  who  have  maintained  a  certain  high  record  of  scholarship, 
and  who  are  of  good  moral  character.  All  who  have  satisfied  these 
conditions  are  elected  to  membership  on  approval  of  the  deans. 
Membership  in  this  society  is  a  highly  coveted  honor.  Two  other 


THE  SOCIAL  LIFE  OF  THE   SCHOOL  283 

societies,  one  each  for  boys  and  girls,  are  composed  of  members  of  the 
senior  class  selected  because  of  distinguished  service  in  promoting  the 
social,  as  contrasted  with  the  scholastic,  life  of  the  school.  The 
membership  of  the  boys'  society  is  limited  to  fifteen,  and  of  the  girls' 
society  to  ten.  For  purpose  of  election  to  these  societies,  the  more 
important  of  the  offices  in  connection  with  the  various  social  organi- 
zations are  divided  into  two  classes,  major  and  minor.  Those  holding 
major  offices  become  ex  officio  members.  Of  those  holding  minor 
offices,  enough  are  selected  by  the  senior  class  to  fill  the  membership 
of  the  boys'  society  to  fifteen,  and  of  the  girls'  to  ten.  In  these  elec- 
tions, which  are  held  by  ballot  in  the  school  offices,  boys  vote  for 
boys,  and  girls  for  girls.  All  candidates  for  these  societies,  both  ex 
officio  and  by  election,  must  be  approved  by  vote  of  the  faculty. 
That  it  may  not  appear  that  too  great  a  premium  is  placed  on  the 
holding  of  office,  it  should  be  stated  that  no  one  of  these  offices,  either 
major  or  minor,  can  be  held  by  one  who  has  failed  in  any  study  during 
the  previous  quarter  or  whose  work  in  any  study  is  unsatisfactory 
at  the  time  of  election.  That  membership  in  these  societies  is  the 
most  highly  coveted  honor  in  the  school  will  be  easily  appreciated. 
It  is  interesting  to  note  that  there  are  several  instances  each  year  in 
which  the  same  pupil  is  a  member  of  the  honor  society  based  on 
scholarship  and  of  that  based  on  social  prominence. 

The  general  school  assembly  plays  an  important  part  in  the  social 
life  of  the  school.  This  occurs  on  Monday  morning  and  occupies  a 
full  hour.  It  is  introduced  by  a  brief  formal  religious  service.  The 
remainder  of  the  hour  is  used  in  various  ways  to  serve  the  interests 
of  the  school.  All  announcements  regarding  the  different  clubs  and 
other  student  organizations  are  made  by  the  student  officers,  who 
always  speak  from  the  platform.  A  sense  of  responsibility  is  thus 
encouraged  in  the  officers,  and,  besides,  there  is  no  small  value  in  this 
practice  in  extemporaneous  speaking  before  a  large  and  critical 
audience.  School  activities  not  easily  under  observation  are  made 
the  subjects  of  special  programs.  An  example  of  this  sort  is  the 
school  daily,  to  which  an  entire  program  was  given,  embodying  a 
description  by  several  members  of  the  staff  of  the  process  of  bringing 
out  a  single  issue.  The  awarding  of  emblems  to  the  athletic  teams 
at  the  close  of  each  quarter  has  already  been  described.  Frequent 
musical  programs  are  furnished  by  members  of  the  faculty  and 
pupils.  There  are  lectures  and  addresses  on  appropriate  subjects 
from  time  to  time,  and  of  course  there  are  certain  vital  topics  which 
need  to  be  presented  by  the  officers  of  the  school.  In  general  it  is 
the  purpose  to  make  the  assembly  an  occasion  in  which  the  whole 
school  gathers  to  consider  together,  in  as  informal  a  manner  as  pos- 
sible, the  things  which  are  vitally  interesting  to  the  school. 


284  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

The  University  High  School,  in  common  with  most  city  high 
schools,  has  had  its  fraternity  problem  to  settle.  Five  years  ago 
there  were  in  the  school  several  secret  societies  among  both  boys  and 
girls.  The  whole  question  was  considered  carefully  for  a  year  by 
faculty,  parents  and  students.  As  a  result  of  much  discussion  it  was 
decided  by  vote  of  the  Parents'  Association  to  rid  the  school  of  these 
organizations  by  requiring  a  pledge  from  the  pupils  who  were  then 
members  that  they  would  take  no  further  members  into  their  societies. 
The  original  societies,  with  constantly  diminishing  membership  by 
reason  of  graduation  or  removal,  had  a  legitimate  existence  in  the 
school  up  to  last  year.  All  applicants  for  admission  to  the  school  be- 
fore their  applications  are  accepted  are  now  required  to  present  the  fol- 
lowing pledge  signed  by  themselves  and  their  parents  or  guardians :  — 

"  I  hereby  declare  that  I  am  not  a  member  of  any  fraternity, 
sorority,  or  other  secret  society,  and  that  I  am  not  pledged  to  any 
such  society.  I  hereby  promise  without  any  mental  reservation  that, 
as  long  as  I  shall  be  a  member  of  the  University  High  School,  I  will 
have  no  connection  whatever  with  any  secret  society,  in  this  school  or 
elsewhere.  I  also  declare  that  I  regard  myself  bound  to  keep  these 
promises,  and  on  no  account  to  violate  any  of  them." 

The  present  situation  with  reference  to  fraternities  has  not  been 
secured  without  many  difficulties.  These  have  been  increased  by  the 
proximity  of  other  schools  in  which  chapters  of  the  fraternities  repre- 
sented in  the  University  High  School  could  not  be  prevented  from 
initiating  members  of  the  school.  It  has  been  necessary  to  remove 
from  school  a  few  who  have  violated  their  pledges.  It  may,  how- 
ever, fairly  be  said  that  the  fraternity  problem  has  been  successfully 
solved. 

The  school  authorities,  however,  have  recognized  that  the  fra- 
ternity represented  the  students'  attempt  to  satisfy  for  themselves  a 
genuine  need.  To  provide  for  this  natural  desire  of  boys  to  get 
together  in  a  place  which  they  may  call  their  own,  the  University 
High  Club  was  started  a  little  more  than  two  years  ago.  Fortunately, 
there  was  a  two-story  dwelling  house  situated  on  the  school  ground, 
and  owned  by  the  University,  which  was  easily  made  available  for  the 
use  of  the  club.  The  house  has  a  reception  room,  a  reading  room,  a 
dining  room,  and  a  kitchen  on  the  first  floor ;  the  second  floor  is 
occupied  by  the  billiard  room  and  one  or  two  other  small  rooms. 
The  clubhouse  is  open  each  day  from  12.30  to  6  P.M.  to  members, 
who  may  be  either  boys  or  male  teachers  of  the  school.  The  mem- 
bership fee  is  within  the  reach  of  all.  Additional  income  is  obtained 
from  the  billiard  and  pool  tables  and  from  the  lunch  room,  which, 
by  its  profits,  pays  the  expenses  of  a  competent  steward  for  the  house. 
The  officers  of  the  club  are  boys  who  are  under  the  supervision  of  a 


THE   SOCIAL  LIFE  OF  THE   SCHOOL  285 

member  of  the  faculty.  Regular  meetings  of  the  officers  and  direc- 
tors are  held,  and  a  good  deal  of  enterprise  is  shown  in  the  manage- 
ment of  club  affairs.  There  is  always  a  feeling  of  responsibility  on 
the  part  of  the  officers  who  are  among  the  older  and  more  reliable 
boys  which  has  absolutely  prevented  any  serious  misuse  of  the  privi- 
leges of  the  club.  The  clubhouse  is  much  frequented,  boys  and 
teachers  enjoying  its  privileges  together.  Occasional  social  events 
take  place  here  on  Friday  or  Saturday  evenings,  such  as  small  enter- 
tainments given  by  members  of  the  club,  or  talks  by  men,  some- 
times the  fathers  of  the  boys.  Visiting  athletic  teams  are  entertained 
here,  the  boys  taking  peculiar  satisfaction  in  extending  this  courtesy 
in  a  clubhouse  which  is  their  own.  Occasionally  on  a  Saturday  or 
some  other  special  day,  the  clubhouse  has  been  turned  over  to  the 
girls,  who  have  greatly  appreciated  this  borrowed  privilege.  For  the 
past  two  years  there  has  been  a  Girls'  Club,  membership  in  which  is 
open  to  all  girls  in  the  school  without  charge.  Seven  rooms  in  an 
apartment  house  on  the  school  grounds  have  been  attractively  fur- 
nished by  the  girls  and  their  mothers,  and  are  used  exclusively  for  the 
club.  The  club  is  organized  similarly  to  that  of  the  boys,  and  meets 
the  social  needs  of  the  girls  of  the  school.  These  clubs  form  the 
center  of  the  social  life  of  the  boys  and  girls.  In  both  there  is  a  con- 
sistent effort  to  maintain  a  democratic  spirit  and  to  avoid  the  atmos- 
phere of  snobbishness,  which  is  fundamentally  the  worst  feature  of  the 
fraternity  and  sorority. 

A  recent  innovation  which  promises  to  be  of  significance  in  the 
moral  training  of  the  boys  of  the  school  has  been  this  year  carried  on 
in  connection  with  the  city  Young  Men's  Christian  Association.  On 
each  Wednesday  evening  a  supper  is  served  in  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  build- 
ing to  the  boys  of  the  University  High  School  and  the  Hyde  Park 
High  School,  a  public  school  in  the  same  section  of  the  city.  The 
privilege  of  attendance  has  not  been  limited  to  members  of  the  Asso- 
ciation. From  fifty  to  one  hundred  boys  with  three  or  four  instructors 
sit  down  together  at  table.  After  supper  they  disperse  to  different 
rooms,  where  some  form  of  Bible  study  or  the  consideration  of  some 
distinctively  moral  subject  is  taken  up  for  forty-five  minutes.  The 
experience  of  one  year  indicates  that  these  groups  are  likely  to  become 
centers  of  moral  influence  affecting  the  life  of  the  entire  school  most 
beneficially. 

Up  to  this  point  no  direct  reference  has  been  made  to  that  side 
of  the  social  life  growing  out  of  the  association  of  boys  and  girls  in 
the  same  school.  Of  course,  these  relations  have  been  implied  in 
connection  with  the  class  organizations  and  the  various  dramatic, 
musical,  literary  and  art  clubs,  in  which  the  boys  and  girls  mingle 
freely.  It  is,  however,  in  connection  with  the  parties  that  the  boys 


286  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

and  girls  come  together  for  the  sole  purpose  of  enjoying  one  another's 
society.  On  each  Friday  afternoon  during  the  autumn  and  winter 
quarters,  there  is  a  dancing  party  in  the  gymnasium  from  three  to 
four-thirty.  This  is  in  charge  of  the  teacher,  who  gives  the  regular 
class  instruction  in  gymnastic  dancing;  there  are  also  other  teachers 
present  and  always  a  considerable  number  of  parents.  The  party  is 
open  to  all  members  of  the  school,  but  to  no  one  else.  No  one  is 
allowed  to  enter  after  the  party  opens  nor  leave  until  its  close,  and 
all  who  are  present  participate.  The  dancing  takes  the  form  of  a 
cotillion,  in  which  the  figures  are  so  devised  as  to  secure  a  frequent  and 
general  mixing  of  the  participants.  The  party  closes  formally,  the 
parents  and  teachers  standing  in  line  to  receive  the  good  nights  of 
the  pupils  as  they  pass  out.  These  parties  are  largely  attended,  are 
evidently  greatly  enjoyed,  and  are  marked  by  naturalness  in  the 
relations  of  the  boys  and  girls  toward  each  other.  The  period  since 
Jthese  parties  have  been  held  has  witnessed  a  constant  diminution  in 
the  silliness  which  is  supposed  to  accompany  the  relations  of  boys 
and  girls  at  this  age,  and  a  corresponding  increase  in  natural  and  un- 
affected conduct  in  the  presence  of  each  other.  At  the  end  of  the 
autumn  and  winter  quarters,  two  of  these  parties  are  made  special 
occasions,  one  for  the  two  lower,  and  the  other  for  the  two  upper, 
classes.  At  these  the  Parents'  Association  provides  favors,  refresh- 
ments and  special  music.  Again,  toward  the  close  of  the  year,  an- 
other party  is  given  to  the  whole  school  under  the  same  auspices, 
which  is  the  only  school  party  for  the  year  held  in  the  evening. 

All  the  activities  thus  far  mentioned  are  planned  directly  for  the 
pleasure  or  profit  of  the  members  of  the  school  community.     An 
opportunity  for  a  larger  social  outlook  is  found  in  the  University 
settlement,  with  whose  aims  and  work  the  pupils  are  brought  into 
intelligent  and  sympathetic  contact.     At  least  once  each  year  some  i 
of  the  settlement  workers  speak  at  the  school  assembly.     A  settle- 
ment committee  of  boys  and  girls  has  occasional  meetings  and  makes  i 
plans  for  assisting  in  the  work.     During  the  last  two  years  the  follow-  j 
ing  results  have  been  accomplished :  a  group  of  girls  gave  an  exhibi- 
tion of  class  work  and  games  in  the  settlement  gymnasium ;   Christ-  i 
mas  parties  for  a  number  of  old  people  have  been  held  at  the  settle- 
ment, for  which  the  pupils  prepared  enormous  stockings  filled  with  j 
all  sorts  of  articles  useful  and  otherwise;    two  dramatic  entertain-  j 
ments  prepared  for  the  school's  own  enjoyment  have  been  repeated  j 
on  the  settlement  stage ;    considerable  sums  of  money  have  been 
secured  through  musical  and  other  entertainments  and  by  contribu- 
tions from  pupils  which  have  provided  for  camping  excursions  for  a 
large  number  of  city  boys  who  otherwise  could  not  have  enjoyed  this 
pleasure.    There  has  been  a  conscious  effort  to  avoid  the  danger  of 


THE  SOCIAL  LIFE  OF  THE  SCHOOL  287 

making  the  boys  and  girls  self-righteous  prigs  by  having  their  con- 
tributions to  the  settlement  as  far  as  possible  grow  naturally  out  of 
the  activities  of  their  own  social  life  about  school. 

Reference  has  several  times  been  made  to  the  parents  in  connection 
Tvith  the  social  life  of  the  school.  It  will  easily  be  understood  that 
10  such  elaborate  social  organization  can  be  conducted  successfully 
without  the  intelligent  and  substantial  cooperation  of  the  parents  and 
iupils.  The  Parents'  Association  has  taken  up  for  consideration  many 
f  the  features  in  the  social  organization  described,  has  provided  the 
noney  necessary  to  their  inauguration,  and  each  year  provides  the 
noney  necessary  to  maintain  these  activities.  Through  committees 
ind  individuals  they  come  into  very  close  contact  with  the  social  life 
>f  the  school. 

It  is  at  once  apparent  that  the  conditions  which  make  such  a  com- 
plete organization  of  the  social  life  possible  are  peculiar  to  a  few 
chools,  and  that  the  resources  necessary  cannot  be  secured  in  most 
)ublic,  and  many  private,  secondary  schools.  However,  at  the  first, 
10  one  foresaw  the  full  development  of  the  elaborate  organization  in 
.he  University  High  School.  The  present  condition  has  been  an 
evolution  which  began  in  the  idea  that  it  was  the  function  of  the  high 
>chool  to  provide  for  the  training  of  the  pupil's  whole  nature,  followed 
Dy  a  determined  effort  to  make  this  idea  effective.  With  the  same 
dea  and  determination  any  school,  whatever  its  situation  or  cir- 
:umstances,  may  at  once  begin  to  make  effective  those  agencies 
vhich,  as  no  others  in  our  public  school  can,  train  boys  and  girls  to 
>ecome  morally  self-reliant  men  and  women. 

F.  W.  Johnson,  reprinted  from  The  School  Review.    December,  1909. 


TOPICS  FOR  DISCUSSION 

1.  State  fully  the  reasons  for  regarding  the  school  as  a  social  group. 
Vhat  view  of  the  school  does  traditional  school  practice  seem  to  be 
)ased  upon  ? 

2.  Contrast  the  views  of  LeBon  and  Cooley  as  means  of  inter- 
acting the  school  life.     Do  both  have  a  place ;  or  is  one  or  the  other 
bathological  ? 

I  3-  Opportunities  afforded  by  the  school  for  the  development  of 
f  primary  ideals."  Obstacles  in  the  school  to  their  development. 
i  4.  What  can  you  say  of  the  desirability  of  developing  and  con- 
jerving  a  social  life  of  a  school  as  a  whole?  Explain  the  English 
{House  system"  as  a  means.  Its  adaptation  to  large  schools  of  the 
American  type.  See  Findlay.  Consider  also  the  Abbottsholme 
School  described  by  Scott. 


288  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

5.  Relation  of  subsidiary  organizations  to  the  general  school  life. 

6.  What  are  the  social  objections  to  the  secret  fraternity  in  the  high 
school  ? 

7.  Justify  if  you  can  the  ideal  that  the  school  should  provide  for 
the  social  as  well  as  the  intellectual  development  of  children. 

8.  How  would  you  meet  the  objection  that  there  is  already  too  much 
social  life  in  the  school  ? 

9.  What  aspects  of  the  social  life  of  the  school  can  you  distinguish 
aside  from  what  may  find  expression  in  parties  and  other  functions  ? 


BIBLIOGRAPHY  ON  THE  SOCIAL  LIFE  OF  THE  SCHOO: 


: 
- 


ALLEN,  CHAS.  R.  "Educational  progress  for  1907,"  topic,  "A  n 
educational  process,"  S.  Rev.y  16 :  305.  Recounts  recent  expe 
ments  in  development  of  the  social  life  of  the  school. 

"Educational  progress  in  1908,"  S.  Rev.,  17:  289.     "It  is  plain 

that  school  methods  may  have  much  to  do  with  the  develop- 
ment of  effective  loyalty,  and  that  group  work  has  a  permanent 
place  in  school  procedure  as  a  method  directly  preparing  for  social 
living." 

BISHOP,  J.  R.     "The  high  school  as  a  social  factor/'  N.  E.  A.,  '97  :  694. 
BROWN,  J.  F.     The  American  High  School,  Chapter  XI,  "Social  Life." 

BURNHAM,  W.  H.  "Everyday  patriotism,"  Outlook,  November  7, 
1908.  An  illustration  of,  and  a  plea  for,  a  development  of  a  civic, 
and  neighborhood  spirit  in  a  community  as  a  base  for  a  larger, 
patriotism.  Applies  directly  in  school. 

CRONSON,  BERNARD.  Social  value  of  the  morning  assembly  to  the 
school.  See  his  Pupil  Self -government,  p.  58.  New  York,  1907. 

CUTLER,  J.  E.     "The  social  side  of  the  public  school,"  Char.,  20 :  487. 

DEWEY,  J.  The  School  and  Society,  pp.  27-31.  Chicago,  1899.  The 
school  an  embryonic  society. 

"The  significance  of  the  School  of  Education,"  El.  S.  T.,  4 :  441. 

1904. 

DYKEMA,  PETER.     "The  school  festival,"  Craftsman,  12 :  649.    The 
festival    a    means   of    unifying    the   school   and   developing    a; 
higher  social  life,  illustrated  in  the  practical  experiments  of  the1! 
Ethical  Culture  School. 

FINDLAY,  J.  J.  "The  corporate  life  of  the  school,"  S.  Rev.,  15 :  144; -I 
16:601.  Describes  the  English  "house  system"  in  the  board-/ 
ing  and  in  the  day  schools.  Its  moral  and  educational  value. 


THE  SOCIAL  LIFE  OF  THE  SCHOOL  289 

GIBBS,  LOUISE  R.  "Making  a  high  school  a  center  of  social  life," 
S.  Rev.,  17:634. 

GORDON,  M.  K.  "School  athletics:  what  they  are  and  what  they 
should  be,"  N.  E.  A.,  1908,  616. 

GRIGGS,  G.  H.    Moral  Education,  77-83.    New  York,  1905. 

GULICK,  L.  H.  "Team  games  and  civic  loyalty,"  S.  Rev.,  14:676. 
The  opportunity  afforded  by  interschool  contests  for  develop- 
ment of  loyalty,  honesty,  courtesy,  spirit  of  fair  play. 

[ALLECK,  R.  P.  "The  social  side  of  secondary  education,"  N.  E.  A., 
1902,  459. 

IARDING,  H.  H.    "Social  needs  of  children,"  El.  S.  T.,  4:  205. 
[ELLER,  H.  H.     "The  social  life  of  the  adolescent,"  Ed.,  25 :  579. 

[OLLISTER,  HORACE  A.  High  School  Administration,  pp.  187-198. 
Boston,  1909. 

IOWERTH,  I.  W.     "Education  and  the  social  ideal,"  Ed.  Rev.,  24: 

OHNSON,  F.  W.  "The  social  organization  of  the  high  school,"  S. 
Rev.,  17  :  665.  1909. 

FEELER,  H.  "The  financial  responsibility  of  high  school  managers  of 
athletics,"  S.  Rev.,  11:316.  1903. 

SELLER,  P.  G.  "Open  school  organizations,"  S.  Rev.,  13:  10-14. 
1905.  Method  of  getting  open  organizations  in  place  of  secret 
ones;  plan  of  six  schools. 

£OHLSAAT,  P.  B.  "Secondary  school  fraternities  not  a]  factor  in 
determining  scholarship,"  S.  Rev.,  13:272.  1905. 

VioRRisoN,  G.  B.  "Social  ethics  in  high  school  life,"  S.  Rev.,  13  :  361- 
370.  1905.  High  school  social  functions,  need  of;  teachers 
should  be  on  same  social  status  with  pupil  as  parents;  reasons 
for  the  fraternity. 

,  A.  H.  "The  Cony  High  School  Assembly.  An  unconscious 
experiment  in  citizenship,"  S.  Rev.,  14 :  505.  1906.  An  assembly 
of  high  school  students  who  administered  the  financial  side  of 
athletic  and  other  school  enterprises. 

)WEN,  W.  B.  "The  problem  of  the  high  school  fraternity,"  S.  Rev., 
14 : 492.  1906.  Prevailing  methods  of  dealing  with,  and  their 
harmful  results ;  need  of  social  functions  in  the  school  to  supply 
the  legitimate  demand  for  social  intercourse. 


290  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

"Social  education  through  the  school,"  S.  Rev.,  15  : 11-26.     1907. 

The  school  a  society :  what  may  be  done  to  teach  children  social 
duties.     The  problem  and  a  plan. 

PARLIN,  C.  C.  "An  illustration  of  the  management  of  athletics  in 
the  high  school/'  S.  Rev.,  n  :  709.  1903. 

REEDER,  RUDOLPH.  How  Two  Hundred  Children  Live  and  Learn. 
Chapter  V,  "The  School."  New  York,  1909.  A  fine  illustration 
of  corporate  life  developed  in  an  institution. 

"Report  of  the  Committee  on  the  Influence  of  Fraternities  in  Secon- 
dary Schools,"  Questionaire,  S.  Rev.,  12:2-3.  1904.  Results 
of  inquiry,  S.  Rev.,  13 :  i-io.  1905.  A  useful  report. 

PARKINSON,  W.  D.  "Individuality  and  social  adjustment  as  means 
and  ends  in  education,"  Ed.  29 : 16-24.  One  supplementary  to 
the  other. 

SCOTT,  COLIN  A.  Social  Education,  Chapter  II.  Boston,  1908. 
"Tests  for  the  school." 

SCUDDER,  M.  T.     "A  study  of  high  "school  pupils,"  S.  Rev.,  7: 197. 

SHELDON,  H.  D.  Student  Life  and  Customs.  New  York,  1901.  Deals 
with  social  activities  of  students  in  all  ages. 

STAMPER,  ALVA  W.  "The  financial  administration  of  student  or- 
ganizations in  secondary  schools,"  S.  Rev.,  19 :  25. 

STOKES,  J.  G.  P.  "Public  schools  as  social  centers,"  An.  Am.  Acad.r 
23  :  457.  1904.  The  need  of  developing  the  social  nature  of  the 
child. 

STOWE,  A.  M.  "The  school  club  and  its  relation  to  several  educa- 
tional ideals,"  EL  S.  T.,  9 :  364.  1908. 

TUCKER,  W.  J.  "  How  shall  pupils  be  taught  to  estimate  themselves  ?  " 
S.  Rev.,  13  :  597. 

TYLER,  J.  M.     "The  boy  and  the  girl  in  high  school,"  Ed.,  26:  462.  I 

"Washington  decision  on  the  high  school  fraternity,"  S.  Rev.,  14 :  731. 
1906.     Supreme    court    of    Washington    sustained    the    Seattle  j 
board  of  education  in  excluding  members  of  high  school  fraternities 
from  all  high  school  functions  except  classes. 

WETZEL,  A.  "High  school  student  organizations,"  5.  Rev.,  13  :  429. 
1905. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

DEMOCRATIC   GOVERNMENT  OF   SCHOOLS 

Our  Schools  are  Monarchies.  —  We  live  in  a  democracy.  Our 
schools,  therefore,  should  be  democracies,  but  they  are  not.  They  are 
monarchies.  The  teacher  is  the  monarch,  the  pupil  the  subject. 
Like  the  subjects  of  all  monarchies  they  feel  no  responsibility  for  the 
order  and  conduct  of  the  community  in  which  they  live.-  It  is  the  duty 
of  the  ruler  —  the  monarch  —  the  teacher,  to  see  that  law  and  order 
are  maintained ;  that  wrongs  are  righted  in  the  community  by  those 
who  belong  to  the  "  governing  classes."  Yet  we  call  this  fitting  for 
citizenship  in  a  democratic  form  of  government!  Is  it  any  wonder 
that  we  are  beginning  to  feel  that  our  schools  are  not  doing  their  duty 
in  this  education,  fitting  for  citizenship?  If  there  is  any  excuse  for 
public  education  at  all,  it  is  to  fit  pupils  for  these  duties  and  responsi- 
bilities that  are  delegated  to  all  the  people  in  a  democratic  form  of 
government. 

The  schools  of  two  hundred  years  ago,  which  are  still  the  models  for 
school  governments,  were  the  schools  for  the  training  of  the  individual 
for  his  own  advantage  —  not  for  the  good  of  the  state.  We  have 
discarded  the  monarchical  government  of  the  nation  for  the  demo- 
cratic, but  we  still  cling  to  the  old  monarchical  school  government.  .  .  . 
We  have,  it  is  true,  modified  its  severity  somewhat.  The  rod  has 
been  nearly  or  quite  discarded.  Moral  suasion  has  taken  a  more 
prominent  place,  yet  with  all  these  changes  it  is  still  a  monarchy. 
The  future  citizens  of  the  republic  —  the  pupils  —  have  never  been 
asked  to  begin  here  to  learn  their  citizen  duties.  They  grow  up  feel- 
ing that  they  have  no  duties  beyond  getting  their  lessons.  The  teacher 
is  still  responsible  for  conduct,  for  the  restraining  of  the  wayward  or 
thoughtless,  for  the  enforcement  of  rules  and  regulations  that  are  for 
the  good  of  all. 

All  this  should  be  radically  changed.     The  pupils  should  be  taught 

I  to  participate  in  the  government  of  the  school  as  they  afterwards  must  in 

the  government  of  the  community  and  state.     The  pupils  should  feel  that 

they  have  a  public  duty  in  the  school  community  as  they  will  later  have 

i  in  the  adult  community.     They  should  be  carefully  trained  in  school 

!  life  to  see  their  relations  to  law  and  order  and  their  enforcement  in 

I  the  school,  as  they  must  later  see  them  in  adult  life,  if  they  do  their 

duty  as  law-abiding  and  law-enforcing  citizens. 

291 


292  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

This  does  not  mean  pupil  government,  but  pupils  assisting  in  school 
government.  It  does  not  necessarily  mean  the  substitution  of  some 
elaborate  plan  of  "  Pupil  City  "  government,  or  any  other  form  of 
the  modern  machinery  of  government.  Indeed,  the  writer,  after 
sixteen  years  of  experimenting  on  the  subject,  believes  that  any  such 
radical  change  will,  in  most  cases,  fail.  What  is  needed  is  some  simple 
plan  that  will  have  the  minimum  of  the  forms  and  officers  of  modern 
city,  state  or  nation  as  models  for  government,  with  a  maximum  of  in- 
dividual education  in  the  personal  duties  of  the  public  towards  the  control 
of  himself  and  the  school. 

Let  the  pupils  be  delegated  such  simple  duties  for  the  preservation 
of  good  order,  honesty  of  work,  and  the  general  welfare  of  the  school, 
as  they  are  willing  to  assume.  Let  them  be  stimulated  to  exercise  an 
influence  for  right  conduct  in  others  and  be  taught  clearly  to  see  how 
such  conduct  —  good  or  bad  —  does  concern  them,  and  that  they  should 
not  be  passively  submissive  or  indifferent  to  wrong  acts.  Let  them,  above 
all,  be  taught  to  get  control  of  themselves  —  to  "  Do  Right  "  without 
being  watched  or  told  to  do  it.  .  .  . 

In  most  schools  the  teacher  stands  alone  as  the  representative  of  good 
conduct  and  order,  and  has  arrayed  against  him  all  the  vicious  and 
bad  element  of  the  school.  It  is  true,  there  is  in  every  school  an  ele- 
ment which  is  neutral,  pupils  whose  natural  tendencies  and  train- 
ing lead  them  to  do  right,  or  to  be  disposed  to  do  right.  They  are, 
however,  not  inclined  to  take  sides.  They  are  mere  "  lookers-on  in 
Venice."  They  are  not  led  to  believe  that  they  have  a  duty  or  even 
a  right  to  take  sides  in  the  never  ending  contest.  They  know  that 
the  teacher  must  have  order  and  obedience  if  he  properly  conducts  the 
school.  They  also  feel  a  degree  of  sympathy  and  even  admiration  for 
the  fellow-pupil  who  is  disposed  to  have  fun  and  to  disobey  the  rules 
or  quietly  outwit  or  deceive  the  teacher.  They  even  have  quiet  ad- 
miration for  the  boy  or  girl  who  has  the  "  nerve  "  to  disobey  orders 
or  to  do  disorderly  and  annoying  things.  When  that  bad  boy  expects 
them  to  hide  from  the  teacher  his  misdeeds,  they  readily  lend  them- 
selves to  their  classmate's  wishes.  Thus  it  turns  out  that  the  pupils 
are,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  all  arraigned  against  the  teacher,  the  majority 
by  remaining  passive  in  their  influence,  and  the  remainder  more  or 
less  active  —  openly  or  secretly  —  by  doing  disorderly,  dishonest  or 
annoying  things. 

We  say  the  government  and  order  is  more  or  less  good,  according 
as  this  neutral  class  is  large  or  small  in  proportion  to  the  active  class. 
The  teacher's  ability  to  govern  well  is  measurably  his  tact  and  firmness 
in  keeping  this  actively  bad  class  in  reasonable  subjection.  As  a  rule 
he  does  it  unaided  by  any  sympathy  or  systematic  assistance  from  the 
neutral  class.  , 


DEMOCRATIC   GOVERNMENT  OF  SCHOOLS  293 

The  Defect  of  Military  Government.  —  No  matter  what  guise  it 
takes,  it  presupposes  officers  of  some  kind  in  authority,  responsible 
for  conduct,  thinking  for  the  student,  watching  the  student.  The 
pupil  is  no  longer  a  free  agent  being  taught  to  be  responsible  for  his 
own  acts.  He  is  an  automaton  with  only  volition  enough  left  in  him 
to  obey  orders,  to  stop  and  start  and  step  when  told  to  and  in  unison 
with  others.  All  responsibility  for  order,  conduct  and  general  move- 
ments rest  on  those  in  authority,  whether  these  be  members  of  the 
faculty  or  persons  chosen  from  the  body  of  the  students.  In  such 
schools  the  "  lock  step  "  prevails,  both  in  a  physical  and  a  mental  sense. 
Individuality  of  thought  and  action  and  volition  is  lost.  The  re- 
sponsibility in  all  such  military  forms  of  control  rests  with  the  few, 
the  teacher  or  officer ;  the  many  —  the  masses  —  are  left  untrained 
in  "  the  habit  of  responsibility  "  so  essential  to  the  true  citizen. 

No  amount  of  education  or  ordinary  literary  training  will  give  this 
habit  of  personal  self-control  and  the  "  habit  of  responsibility  "  in 
the  control  of  others.  It  must  be  begun  in  youth,  upon  the  child's 
entrance  into  the  community  life  of  the  school.  There  let  him  be 
carefully  trained  to  think  and  act  for  himself  as  freely  as  we  expect 
him  to  do  in  his  intellectual  development.  Let  him  have  as  few 
bosses  over  him,  either  pupils  or  teachers,  as  possible.  Compel  him 
to  think  and  act  for  himself,  and  be  responsible  for  his  own  acts  in  all 
his  social  relations  with  his  schoolmates.  Let  not  some  one  think 
and  act  for  him,  in  things  that  he  knows  well  he  should  do,  or  refrain 
from  doing.  Let  him  learn  that  liberty  is  not  license.  Let  him  learn 
during  every  day  of  his  school  life  that  he  is  responsible  for  his  own 
conduct,  no  matter  what  his  associates  may  do.  Let  him  learn  the 
habit  in  his  school  life  of  watching  himself  and  his  own  conduct,  not 
of  being  watched  by  others. 

He  should  early  learn  in  his  school  life  that  he  must  guard  his  own 
right  and  privileges  if  he  wishes  to  retain  them  and  enjoy  them.  He 
must  therefore  learn  to  influence  others  to  right  conduct;  learn  to 
make  others  respect  his  rights  by  quiet  moral  suasion  and  not  by 
physical  force.  Let  him  be  taught  clearly  to  see  that  each  is  affected 
by  the  conduct  of  others  and  that  all  are,  therefore,  equally  interested 
in  the  deportment  of  others. 

The  teacher  should,  as  far  as  possible,  throw  upon  the  pupils  the 
responsibility  of  regulating  their  own  conduct  without  being  con- 
tinuously watched  by  her.  Especially  should  this  be  true  during 
hours  of  relaxation  outside  of  the  room.  Encourage  the  children  to 
organize  for  their  own  protection.  Let  them  elect  such  officers  as  may 
seem  wise  to  assist  in  regulating  and  controlling  the  conduct  of  pupils. 
These  officers  should  only  assist,  the  responsibility  rests  upon  all. 
These  officers'  duties  should  never  partake  of  the  military  idea  of  com- 


294  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

manding  or  of  relieving  all  others  from  the  "habit  of  responsibil- 
ity." .  .  . 

Now,  let  us  look  at  some  of  the  things  that  are  taught  our  children 
by  our  present  way  of  governing  and  conducting  schools.  The  little 
child  comes  to  us  ready  to  "  learn  to  do  by  doing."  .  .  .  He  naturally 
wants  to  participate  in  regulating  the  conduct  of  others  as  it  affects 
him.  His  natural  instincts  are  to  do  right  and  to  have  others  about 
him  do  right. 

The  teacher,  however,  promptly  tells  him  that  what  others  do  is  no 
concern  of  his.  He  should  do  right  himself,  but  not  concern  himself 
about  what  his  neighbor  does.  He  soon  learns  that  it  is  the  teacher's 
business  to  regulate  the  conduct  of  the  school,  not  his.  He  must  not 
even  report  it,  —  this  would  be  "  tattling,"  the  capital  sin  in  school 
life ;  so  the  teacher  teaches  and  the  pupil  believes.  Soon  he  learns  that 
there  is  no  one  responsible  for  good  conduct  and  order  but  the  teacher. 
He  soon  learns  that  he  need  fear  no  exposure  of  wrong  acts  from  his 
fellow-schoolmates.  They  hide  his  misdeeds,  and  he  must  hide  theirs. 
The  teacher  is  the  only  one  to  be  feared  when  misconduct  takes  place. 
All  learn  to  keep  their  own  counsel,  hide  and  endure  the  misdeeds  and 
impositions  of  their  fellow- schoolmates  and  let  the  teacher  govern 
the  school  in  the  best  way  he  can. 

The  good  boy  in  this  little  monarchy  must  simply  be  a  passive  sub- 
ject of  the  monarch  over  him.  He  is  neither  asked  nor  allowed  to 
help  that  monarch  in  the  government,  as  he  should  be. 

Later,  in  the  higher  grades,  he  sees  dishonesty  in  examinations  and 
other  irregularities  of  conduct,  but  it  does  not  disturb  his  mind  or  con- 
science. His  lesson  of  minding  his  own  business  and  letting  those  in 
authority  find  these  things  out  has  been  well  learned.  It  will  not  only 
stay  with  him  through  the  high  school,  but  through  life.  He  will  not, 
as  a  pupil  or  a  citizen,  do  wrong  himself,  but  he  has  no  duty  now  to 
the  teacher,  nor,  later,  to  civic  authority,  to  expose  or  suppress  the  mis- 
conduct of  others.  "It  is  none  of  my  business  what  my  neighbor 
does, "  says  the  self-satisfied  citizen  who  is  the  product  of  this  tram- 
ing  in  his  school  days.  His  civic  conscience  is  dulled  and  warped  in  his 
school  training.  It  never  rights  itself  in  after  life. 

Can  any  one  doubt  for  a  moment  that  the  man  in  after  life  gets  his 
ideas  of  his  duty  to  the  community,  and  to  those  in  authority,  from 
the  ideas  taught  him  of  his  duty  to  the  school  community,  and  to  the 
teacher  representing  authority? 

Will  not  the  boy  who  cheats  in  examination  make  the  man  who    j 
will  cheat   the  city  on  a  street  contract?     Will  not  the  boy  who 
scorned  to  cheat  in  an  examination  himself,  but  sat  by  content  to  have 
his  classmate  cheat,  develop  into  the  self-righteous  "  good  citizen  " 
who  takes  no  interest  in  having  honest  city  officers,  and  who  laughs 


DEMOCRATIC   GOVERNMENT  OF  SCHOOLS  295 

at  the  sharp  city  official  who  can  line  his  pockets  dishonestly  ?  Will 
not  the  boy  who  openly  does  wrong  before  his  schoolmates,  expecting 
them  to  suppress  it,  make  the  brazen  lawbreaker  who  defies  public 
opinion  and  the  law  alike? 

Will  not  the  young  man  who  thinks  it  right  not  to  tell  on  his  school- 
mates, and  who  is  allowed  to  believe  so,  make  the  future  alderman 
who  thinks  it  honorable  to  refuse  to  expose  the  briber  who  offered 
him  a  thousand  dollars  for  his  vote?  In  short,  will  not  the  man  be 
what  the  boy  was  taught  to  be?  Can  the  impure  spring  have 
flowing  from  it  anything  but  an  impure  stream  ?  As  the  child's  com- 
munity life  is  in  school,  so  will  be  his  civic  life  in  after  years. 

What  should  school  life  teach  the  boy?  It  should  teach  him  that 
he  is  a  part  of  the  school  community  —  responsible  for  its  acts,  and 
affected  by  every  act  of  his  schoolmates.  He  should,  therefore,  be 
taught  that  the  Mosaic  law,  the  English  common  law,  and  the  statute 
law  of  his  state  make  it  the  duty  of  every  citizen  to  testify  when  called 
upon ;  that  hiding  a  crime  makes  him  a  party  to  it.  He  has,  therefore, 
no  right  to  set  these  principles  aside  in  school  life,  either  because  of  his 
own  wishes,  or  the  false  idea  of  his  teacher.  He  should  be  taught  to 
see  clearly  that  the  restrictions  placed  upon  his  actions  in  school  are 
due  chiefly  to  the  abuse  of  liberties  by  a  few  of  his  schoolmates,  and 
he  should,  therefore,  be  directly  interested  in  the  conduct  of  these 
schoolmates.  He  should  be  taught  to  feel  that  the  rightly  disposed 
boys  should  assert  themselves  as  positively  and  persistently  for  good 
conduct  as  the  careless  or  indifferent  boys  do  for  evil.  He  should  be 
made  to  feel  that  it  is  a  duty  to  himself  and  to  his  school  to  assist  in 
every  way  the  securing  of  right  conduct  as  faithfully  as  does  his 
teacher. 

These  habits,  in  school  life,  can  be  secured  only  by  enlisting  the  pupil 
from  the  first  year  of  school  in  taking  an  interest  in  the  active  govern- 
ment and  control  of  the  general  conduct  of  his  schoolmates  in  their 
common  intercourse.  .  .  . 

Organization.  —  All  government  requires  some  kind  of  organization. 
We  believe,  however,  that  it  is  a  mistake,  except,  possibly,  in  high 
schools  and  colleges,  to  model  the  school  government  after  the  more 
complex  form  of  city,  state  or  nation.  The  mechanisms  of  school 
self-government  should  be  very  simple  and  direct.  The  government 
should  be  "  by  all,  for  all,"  -  not  by  a  set  of  officials,  and  the  masses 
of  the  pupils  excused  from  all  responsibility.  This  is  but  shifting 
the  responsibility  from  the  teacher  to  a  few  pupils.  The  duty  of 
assisting  in  governing  the  school  rests  alike  on  every  one.  The  teacher 
and  "  tribunes  "  are  but  the  responsible  heads,  to  see  that  all  partici- 
pate in  the  lesson  of  learning  to  live  properly  in  this  first  community 
life  —  the  school.  The  pupils,  by  thus  regulating  themselves  through 


296  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

an  officer  of  their  own  number,  in  time  come  to  the  habit  of  correcting 
most  abuses  among  themselves  without  constantly  seeking  to  invoke 
the  higher  power  —  the  teacher. 

For  the  same  reasons,  written  constitutions  for  the  self-governing 
school,  and  elaborate  details  of  rules,  regulations  and  duties  of  officers 
or  pupils  are  of  little  value.  "  Do  right  yourself,  respect  your  neigh- 
bors' rights,  and  have  an  influence  over  others  for  right7'  is  the  key- 
note of  any  successful  plan  of  pupil  government.  Around  this  central 
thought  pupil  government  in  a  school  can  be  successfully  built  up. 

Mode  of  Instituting.  —  A  few  practical  suggestions  as  to  the  mode 
of  instituting  self-government  of  pupils  will  answer  the  questions  of 
many. 

The  less  machinery  about  any  such  plan  the  better.  It  fails  often 
in  colleges  and  high  schools  because  of  the  elaborate  system  established. 
In  a  primary  or  grammar  school  nothing  of  the  kind  can  be  success- 
fully used.  The  children  are  too  young  to  either  deliberate  or  legislate. 
The  plan  contemplates  only  the  election  of  tribunes  by  ballot  on  the 
first  of  each  month.  This  is  in  the  hands  of  the  teacher  and  is  a  formal 
affair  every  month.  The  teacher  can  make  this  hour  the  occasion 
for  appointing  other  citizens,  and  discussing  the  general  subject  and 
the  duties  of  the  pupils. 

Many  make  the  mistake  of  attempting  to  introduce  pupil  govern- 
ment at  once,  without  properly  preparing  the  pupils  for  it.  This  is  a 
great  mistake.  Self-government  must  be  a  growth  from  within,  not 
something  imposed  from  without  by  the  teacher.  The  plan  must 
be  a  growth,  and  it  takes  time  for  all  growth.  The  teacher  can 
stimulate  this  growth  by  surrounding  the  pupil  with  the  proper 
conditions. 

Discuss  with  the  pupils  the  duties  of  good  citizenship.  To  testify 
for  the  right;  to  discountenance  wrongdoing;  to  influence  wrong- 
doers to  do  right ;  to  promptly  assist  in  exposing  wrongdoing  to  the 
proper  authority ;  if  personal  influence  will  not  accomplish  it,  show 
them  that  this  is  the  custom  and  practice  in  our  courts.  The  position 
demanded  by  law  of  every  citizen  is :  to  testify ;  to  expose  wrong ;  to 
personally  obey  the  law. 

The  teacher's  personality  may  be  a  large  factor  in  preparing  the 
pupils  to  take  up  the  plan  successfully.  If  the  seventh  and  eighth 
grades  take  the  right  attitude,  it  is  well  to  begin  with  these  rooms. 
Their  influence  and  example  are  the  most  potent,  but  the  experience 
of  some  schools  is,  that  these  grades  are  the  slowest  to  yield  to  the 
plan.  Their  habits  are  more  fixed.  The  first  and  second  grades  will 
the  most  readily  fall  into  the  plan  from  habit.  Do  not  make  the 
mistake  of  exchanging  the  surveillance  of  the  teacher  for  that  of 
monitors  or  captains.  If  the  pupils  must  still  have  some  one  to  tell 


DEMOCRATIC   GOVERNMENT  OF  SCHOOLS  297 

them  what  to  do,  and  to  watch  them,  it  might  as  well  be  the  teacher 
as  a  pupil.  .  .  . 

Pupils'  Cooperation  in  the  High  School  Government.  —  [Where  pupil 
cooperation  in  government  in  secondary  schools  has  failed],  the 
trouble  is  often  over  organization.  We  try  to  copy  after  the  necessary 
complex  forms  of  government  of  a  municipality  or  a  state,  for  example, 
and  attempt  to  have  their  various  departments  represented  in  some 
way  in  the  school.  Besides  the  deliberative  body,  council  or  senate 
or  whatever  we  call  it,  we  feel  that  there  must  be  a  department  of 
police,  a  department  of  health,  a  fire  department,  a  judicial  depart- 
ment, besides  the  necessary  legislative  and  executive  departments. 
Most  of  these  are  wholly  unnecessary,  useless  and  often  burdensome 
upon  the  time  of  the  pupils.  .  .  . 

Again  the  responsible  head  of  the  institution  or  the  teachers,  having 
started  the  machinery  of  student  government,  get  the  idea  that  it 
will  take  care  of  itself,  and  leave  it  to  the  student  body  to  manage. 
This  will  not  do.  The  principal  of  a  school  that  gets  any  such  idea 
must  either  abandon  the  idea  of  student  government  or  abandon  the 
idea  that  he  can  turn  all  responsibility  over  to  the  students,  and  thus 
relieve  himself  of  it.  The  student  body  must  be  held  firmly  to  the 
belief  that  this  form  of  government  is  adopted  only  for  its  educational 
value,  not  to  let  the  burden  fall  upon  the  students  and  thus  make  the 
teacher's  work  lighter.  So  far  as  the  teacher  is  concerned  it  should 
not  be  merely  a  shifting  of  responsibility  and  work  of  government  to 
the  students,  but  rather  a  shifting  of  the  methods  of  government  and 
methods  of  teaching  right  conduct. 

The  teacher  must  constantly  bring  up  before  his  students  the  prac- 
tical questions  that  arise  day  by  day  in  the  social  intercourse  of  the 
students.  He  must  carefully  discuss  with  his  students  the  reasons 
for  following  certain  lines  of  conduct;  for  establishing  and  enforcing 
certain  rules  and  the  necessity  for  this  or  that  habit  among  indi- 
viduals or  in  the  school  as  a  whole.  He  must  have  a  watchful  eye  to 
every  officer  and  see  that  he  does  his  duty  or  is  removed.  He  must 
privately  suggest  stricter  attention  to  duty  on  the  part  of  this  officer, 
a  less  rigid  and  literal  enforcement  of  regulations,  to  that  one.  He 
must  quickly  check  by  prompt  advice  to  the  students  any  tendencies  in 
the  wrong  direction  that  the  students,  as  a  whole,  seem  to  be  falling 
into,  whether  these  wrong  tendencies  be  acts  of  omission  or  of  com- 
mission. 

The  teacher  must  ever  remember  that  student  government  is  still 

school  for  teaching  government  as  well  as  any  other  subject.  He 
should,  therefore,  no  more  abandon  the  careful  attention  of  teaching 
^tudents  to  govern  than  he  should  abandon  the  teaching  of  history 
or  mathematics.  Let  the  teacher  abandon  the  teaching  of  history 


298  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

and  there  will  be  no  history  class ;  equally,  let  him  wholly  abandon 
giving  attention  to  teaching  participation  in  government,  and  soon 
there  will  be  no  student  government.  .  .  . 

Extracts  from  Democratic  Government  of  Schools,  by  John  Thompson  Ray, 
Public  School  publishing  Company,  Bloomington,  Illinois. 

Some  Facts  about  Pupil  Self-government 

After  years  of  successful  trial  the  pupil  self-government  plan  of 
practical  training  in  civics  and  ethics  has  passed  beyond  the  experi- 
mental stage.  It  is  employed  in  hundreds  of  schools  in  the  United 
States  to-day.  Under  various  forms  it  is  in  operation  in  twelve 
schools  in  New  York  City.  The  principals  who  have  undertaken  to 
conduct  their  schools  on  this  plan  from  the  large  idea  of  real,  practical 
training  for  the  development  of  moral  character  and  good  citizenship 
could  not  be  persuaded  to  return  to  the  old  method  of  conducting 
school. 

Mr.  Andrew  W.  Scarlett,  of  the  Oakwood  Avenue  School,  Orange 
New  Jersey,  who  has  conducted  a  system  of  pupil  self-government 
for  several   years,  says :    "  The  results  have  been  most   gratifying 
Briefly  summarized  they  are:  — 

"  (i)  A  change  in  the  attitude  of  pupils  towards  school  authority. 
The  new  regime  gives  pupils  an  opportunity  to  cooperate  with  the 
responsible  for  the  management  of  the  school. 

"  (2)  The  pupils  develop  a  strong  desire  to  have  things  go  right. 
The  wrongdoer  meets  with  indignation  and  discouragement  from  his 
fellow-pupils  instead  of  sympathy  and  covert  encouragement. 

"  (3)  Pupils  learn  to  discriminate  between  tattling  and  giving 
testimony,  between  muckraking  and  a  righteous  exposure  of  a  fraud. 

"  (4)  They  learn  that  great  lesson  of  democracy  —  that  each  one 
should  be  treated  according  to  his  own  individual  merits,  paying  no 
attention  to  his  creed,  to  his  ancestors,  to  his  social  position  or  finan- 
cial condition." 

Similar  commendations  from  school  authorities  in  Massachusetts, 
Connecticut,  New  York,  New  Jersey,  Pennsylvania,  Delaware, 
Virginia,  Ohio,  Indiana,  Wisconsin,  Nebraska,  Minnesota,  Kansas, 
Utah,  Arizona,  California  and  Washington  attest  the  success  of  the 
plan  under  the  varying  conditions  of  widely  separated  communities. 
In  some  of  the  schools  the  pupil-government  system  has  been  in  opera- 
tion continuously  for  ten  years,  and  the  principals  are  unanimous  as 
to  its  indispensability. 

The  forms  of  pupil  self-government  are  many,  the  principle  one  and 
the  same.  In  some  of  the  schools  the  organization  takes  the  form  of  a 
pure  democracy,  in  others  that  of  a  representative  government ;  the 


DEMOCRATIC   GOVERNMENT  OF  SCHOOLS  299 

j  same  spirit  of  self-reliance  and  responsibility  for  the  common  welfare 
that  makes  of  school  life  an  apprenticeship  in  good  citizenship  obtains 
in  all. 

With  an  organization  of  pupil  self-government  in  the  school  the 
academic  work  is  not  altered  save  in  so  far  as  the  teachers'  disciplinary 
tasks  are  lightened,  thereby  making  more  effectual  the  teaching  work. 
Emerson  says,  "  We  send  our  children  to  the  master,  but  the  boys  edu- 
cate them."     The  underlying  truth  of  this  is  becoming  more  apparent 
every  day.     The  child  is  coming  into  his  own.     And  so  we  have  grow- 
ing up  on  all  sides  self-governing  clubs,  self-governing  communities, 
self-governing  institutions  of  children  —  all  embodying  the  principles 
of  democracy.     The  democratization  of  our  schools  is  the  need  of  the 
hour.     Thomas  Mott  Osborne,  a  deep  student  of  social  questions,  says : 
"  We  have  as  yet  only  just  begun  to  develop  the  possibilities  of  democ- 
j  racy ;  it  remains  to  educate  our  citizens  by  applying  the  Democratic 
Principle  to  our  school  system  (still  dominated  by  aristocratic  and 
j  paternalistic  ideals  —  the  ideals  of  outworn  social  systems) ;  to  apply 
j  the  Democratic  Principle  to  our  factories  and  thus  solve  the  labor 
1  problem;  to  apply  the  Democratic  Principle  to  our  prisons  and  reform 
our  ignorant  brethren  who  have  failed  to  adapt  themselves  to  society. 
And  these  events  are  not  afar  off  —  they  are  close  at  hand  if  we  but  will 
it  so." 

It  is  an  accepted  principle  of  teaching  that  we  learn  to  do  by  doing. 
This  is  the  basic  idea  in  empirical  studies.     The  physics  of  the  labora- 
tory is  as  important  as  the  physics  of  the   lecture  hall.     Drawing, 
carpentering  and  other  useful  things  are  taught  by  practical  work. 
•1  The  world's  work  is  thus  actually  begun  in  the  school  "  shop  "  and  in 
|  the  school  laboratory.     Why  not  in  the  schoolroom  ? 

How  is  it  with  civics  ?  —  not  long  ago  it  was  almost  entirely  con- 
j  fined  to  the  hurrah  of  the  school  assembly  and  the  celebration  of 
j  national  holidays,  but  as  former  Governor  Hughes  once  said,  "  It  is 
ia  very  doubtful  advantage  to  generate  an  emotion  which  has  no 
practical  use,  and  the  emotions  of  patriotism  ought  to  be  stimulated 
jwith  regard  to  certain  important  and  practical  ends."  What  doth  it 
j  profit  to  sing  the  national  airs,  wave  the  Star  Spangled  Banner  and 
|  laud  the  founders  of  the  Republic  if  the  children  are  not  given  an  oppor- 
I  tunity  to  crystallize  their  patriotic  emotions  into  actions  of  mutual 
| forbearance,  helpfulness  and  loyalty?  Pupil  self-government  con- 
!  verts  the  children's  Fourth  of  July  emotions  into  everyday  actions. 

Political  developments  in  this  country  in  recent  years  have  made 
|  apparent  the  fact  that  the  average  citizen's  sense  of  civic  duty  was  at 
I  a  very  low  ebb.  Dishonesty  in  high  places  and  low  was  laid  bare  in  a 
wave  of  reform  that  spread  over  the  land.  Hardly  a  village  escaped 
!  the  prober's  lance,  and  trickery  and  graft  were  uncovered  everywhere 


300  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

to  the  shame  of  the  apathetic  citizen.  In  the  wake  of  such  an  upheaval 
there  came  a  series  of  remedial  propositions.  Exposure  and  prose- 
cution reached  only  unfortunate  individuals;  it  did  not  go  deep  enough 
to  reach  the  underlying  causes  that  made  the  deplorable  conditions 
possible.  The  supine  attitude  of  the  citizens  in  a  representative 
government  is  the  occasion  of  civic  sins.  Eternal  vigilance  is  the  price 
of  honest  and  efficient  government.  But  a  temporary  wave  of  reform 
does  not  change  the  habits  of  a  lifetime,  and  when  the  novelty  of 
exposure  ceases,  the  people  at  large  relax  into  their  former  civic  indif- 
ference. 

Students  of  social  and  political  life  are  of  one  mind  as  to  an  effective 
remedy  for  the  shortcomings  of  our  body  politic  —  only  through  the 
proper  training  of  our  youth  can  a  lasting  betterment  of  conditions 
be  effected. 

Good  citizenship  is  a  moral  attitude  and  springs  from  the  mind  and 
heart  of  a  well-rounded  moral  being.  No  amount  of  intellectual 
training  solely  will  warm  the  heart  to  a  love  of  probity,  or  quicken  it 
to  a  desire  for  "  The  righteousness  that  exalteth  the  nation." 

In  that  remarkable  community  of  young  citizens  at  Freeville,  Ne 
York,  the  following  episode,  which  illustrates  that  good  citizenship  is  i 
moral  and  not  an  intellectual  matter,  took  place :  A  good  football  playe 
was  unfortunate  enough  to  be  in  the  toils  of  the  law  on  a  day  wher 
his  presence  on  the  team  was  urgently  needed ;  a  session  of  the  Supren 
Court  was  held  to  consider  the  advisability  of  his  parole.     Argument 
pro  and  con  were  urged  without  conspicuous  success  until  a  public 
spirited  citizen  thus  summed  up  the  situation.     "  Your  Honor/'  said 
he,  "  in  most  schools  and  colleges  nowadays  a  fellow  has  to  gain 
certain  standard  of  scholarship  in  order  to  be  a  member  of  any  athletic 
team.     Now,  up  here  at  the  Junior  Republic,  our  standard  is  citizen- 
ship, and  if  a  fellow  can't  keep  out  of  jail,  he  has  no  business  to  play 
on  a  football  eleven/'     That  settled  the  matter.     He  did  not  play. 
No  amount  of  theoretical  study  of  the  ramifications  of  government 
could  make  possible  such  a  reply ;  it  sprang  from  a  heart  filled  with  a 
profound  sense  of  the  dignity  and  sacredness  of  the  rights  and  privi- 
leges of  citizenship. 

It  is  such  characters  that  are  molded  by  giving  children  an  oppor- 
tunity to  conduct  their  own  affairs,  thus  cultivating  early  in  life  a 
sense  of  the  obligations  of  every  man  to  his  fellows.  The  principals 
in  whose  schools  pupil  self-government  is  a  factor  invariably  point  out 
that  one  of  the  chief  results  of  the  system  is  a  strong  spirit  of  coopera- 
tion. Thus  is  created  a  healthy  public  opinion,  ever  ready  to  applaud 
everything  that  adds  to  or  to  frown  upon  everything  that  detracts 
from  the  honor  of  the  school. 

The  claim  is  not  made  that  pupil  self-government  is  a  panacea  for  all 


DEMOCRATIC   GOVERNMENT  OF   SCHOOLS  301 

social  ills,  nor  a  plan  by  which  all  school  problems  are  solved.  It  has 
its  shortcomings  and  its  dangers,  and  they  are  neither  few  nor  trivial, 
neither  are  they  insurmountable  nor  fatal.  Wise,  constant,  discreet 
supervision  is  the  guarantee,  and  the  only  guarantee  of  success  in  this 
work.  But  those  who  have  been  conducting  their  schools  with  this 
judicious  participation  in  the  children's  efforts  declare  that  the  returns 
in  moral  and  civic  training  splendidly  justify  the  efforts  put  forth. 

The  conspicuous  success  of  pupil  self-government  in  many  places  is 
proof  beyond  question  that  the  principle  is  a  sound  one  pedagogically. 
Is  it  not  then  inexcusable  for  public  servants  in  the  departments  of 
education  to  dismiss  the  question  after  a  superficial  study  of  it  with  the 
verdict  of  "  Impracticable,"  "Absurd,"  "Not  worth  while,"  "A 
beautiful  dream,  but  an  impossible  proposition  "  ?  The  day  is  not  far 
off  when  an  awakened  public  will  demand  of  its  officials  the  introduc- 
tion of  some  system  which  will  make  effective  the  preparation  for 
citizenship.  .  .  . 

It  may  be  well  here  to  review  the  chief  reasons  why  a  plan  of  Public 
Self-government  is  not  in  operation  in  every  school  in  this  country.  A 
careful  study  of  the  situation  has  disclosed  the  following  difficulties :  — 

(A)  The  principal  and  other  supervisors  are  so  harassed  by  a 
multitude  of  minor  obligations  that  they  feel  that  the  time  cannot  be 
spared  for  the  organization  and  direction  of  a  pupil  community. 

(B)  An  equally  formidable  difficulty  is  the  fact  that  with  the  present 
overloaded  curricula  teachers  are  strongly  averse  to  the  idea  of  adding 
anything  to  their  burdens. 

(C)  The  third  difficulty  of  importance  is  an  ill-founded  antipathy 
towards  the  "  School  City  "  and  kindred  ideas. 

But  these,  after  all,  are  difficulties,  and  as  such  exist  only  to  be  over- 
:ome. 

(a)  Was  it  ever  intended  that  the  principal  of  a  school  should  be  a 
mere  clerk  ?     Yet  how  many  there  are  whose  sole  business  seems  to  be 
the  adjustment  and  keeping  of  records.     Should  not  the  principal  be 
the  intellectual  and  moral  leader  of  the  school  ? 

(b)  Pupil  self-government  has  but  little  to  do  with  the  curriculum 
pf  study.     It  is  concerned  rather  with  the  relations  of  the  children 
towards  one  another  and  towards  the  school  authorities.     Experience 
with  the  plan  has  proved  that  it  so  lessens  the  out-of-class  work  of  the 
teachers  that  they  can  do  more  effective  teaching  work  than  under 

ifhe  old  system  of  school  government. 

(c)  The  unpopularity  of  the  School  City  is  as  regrettable  as  it  is 
unjustified.     In  Philadelphia  it  was  done  to  death  by  that  arch  enemy 
pf  education,  politics.     Where  it  has  ceased  to  be  a  part  of  the  school 

i  if e  elsewhere  it  has  been  generally  due  to  a  change  among  those 
paving  authority. 


302  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

We  come  now  to  the  objections  to  pupil  self-government.  These 
were  gathered  in  a  canvass  of  two  hundred  schools  of  the  metropolitan 
district.  The  answers  to  them  are  supplied  by  a  New  York  City 
principal  who  has  conducted  his  school  on  the  plan  for  seven  terms. 

(1)  Pupil   self-government  calls  for  a  mental  development  that 
children  do  not  possess.     Neither  is  it  desirable  that  children  should 
become  "  Legislative,  Judicial  and  Executive."    We  want  to  keep 
them  young  as  long  as  we  can. 

(lA)  We  have  found  the  pupils  of  the  sixth,  seventh  and  eighth 
years,  adequately  and  normally  developed,  able  to  conduct  their  own 
affairs  —  under  discreet  supervision.  As  for  the  contention  that 
self-government  induces  precocity,  it  is  unfounded.  The  children, 
both  officers  and  citizens,  are  thoroughly  normal,  healthy  and  sport- 
loving  Young  Americans. 

(2)  It  takes  up  too  much  time. 

(2 A)  The  actual  time  consumed  by  the  formal  side  of  the  School 
Republic  is  ten  minutes  for  election  at  the  beginning  of  the  school  term 
and  the  time  of  three  teachers  per  week  for  an  hour  after  school ;  the 
latter  a  voluntary  work  of  the  teachers. 

(3)  Children,  when  vested  with  power,  become  arrogant. 

(3^4)  Seven  'terms  of  pupil  self-government  have  failed  to  bring 
forth  a  domineering  state  official. 

(4)  If  men  cannot  successfully  govern  themselves,  how  can  children  ? 
(4^4)  No  amount  of  priori  reasoning  can  argue  away  the  fact  that 

children  do  govern  themselves  relatively  well.  May  it  not  be  one  of; 
the  contributory  causes  of  the  shortcomings  of  our  democracy  that  as 
children  our  people  were  not  effectively  trained  for  participation  in 
civic  life?  Are  we  not  now  paying  the  price  of  the  despotic  school- 
master rule  of  the  old  days  ?  What  preparation  for  living  in  a  democ- 
racy was  so  ill-designed  as  the  none  too  benevolent  despotism  of  the 
birch-rod  master?  And  even  under  the  present  system  of  textbook 
civics,  what  actual  preparation  is  there  for  a  life  as  a  citizen  ?  The 
science  of  number  is  taught  by  the  use  of  numbers ;  physical  training 
is  carried  out  by  a  scientifically  developed  course  of  physical  exercises ; 
drawing  is  drawing,  and  nature  study  is  pursued  largely  by  a  first- 
hand study  of  objects,  but  civics  takes  its  place  with  astronomy  in 
that  it  deals  with  things  remote.  The  vitalization  of  civics  calls  for 
some  mode  of  pupil  self-government. 

(5)  In   the  last  analysis  the  supervision  necessary  makes  mere 
puppets  of  the  children. 

(5^4)  Not  a  fact.  Judicious  supervision  exercised  along  the  lines  of 
friendly  control  without  dictation  serves  the  twofold  purpose  of  foster- 
ing initiative  and  preventing  the  children  from  attempting  too  much. 

(6)  The  machinery  is  so  elaborate  that  the  purpose  is  destroyed. 


DEMOCRATIC   GOVERNMENT  OF  SCHOOLS 


303 


(6;!)  Yes,  if  the  machinery  is  so  elaborate,  but  it  need  not  be,  and 
it  is  not.  Elaborate  systems  fall  to  the  ground  of  their  own  weight. 
The  best  results  are  obtained  along  the  simplest  lines. 

(7)  The  energy  expended  is  not  worth  while. 

(jA)  If  a  wealth  of  school  spirit  and  a  splendid  cooperative  attitude 
on  the  part  of  teachers  and  pupils  is  not  worth  while,  is  anything  in 
this  world  worth  while? 

(8)  Pupil  self-government  is  simply  for  show;  it  cannot  take  care 
of  those  serious  cases,   e.g.  thievery,  etc.,  which  come  up  in  every 
school. 

(8  A)  This  objection  supposes  that  the  entire  government  of  the 
school  is  in  the  hands  of  the  pupils.  Rather  is  pupil  government  an 
auxiliary  of  the  regularly  constituted  school  regimen  and  makes  the 
handling  of  untoward  events  a  simpler  procedure  than  usual. 

(9)  The  children  of  our  day  are  more  in  need  of  respect  for  authority 
than  the  exercise  of  it. 

(gA)  Why?  The  children  of  our  day  have  been  quickened  by  the 
inquiring  spirit  of  our  times  and  are  quick  to  detect  the  shallowness  of 
the  autocratic  system.  But  where  they  are  trained  to  a  rational 
respect  for  authority  through  a  realization  of  the  necessity  and  the 
participation  in  the  exercise  of  it,  their  respect  and  loyalty  becomes^ 
unshakable. 

(10)  In  the  economic  conditions  under  which  we  live,  our  children 
need  all  of  the  knowledge  that  they  can  get,  to  prepare  for  the  struggle 
for  existence. 

(io^4 )  The  economic  conditions  under  which  we  live  are  extremely 
trying,  because  we  have  let  slip  from  our  grasp  the  power  that  right- 
fully belongs  to  us.  The  fundamental  remedy  is  to  teach  our  children 
the  value  of  working  together,  reclaiming  that  power  and  reestablish- 
ing the  conditions  of  true  democracy. 

(n)  Pupil  self-government  destroys  one  of  the  greatest  influences 
of  the  school,  i.e.  the  principal's  and  teachers'  personal  influences. 

(n^4)  Through  seven  terms  the  principal  and  teachers  and  pupils 
have  been  brought  constantly  into  closer  and  more  efficient  coopera- 
tion. 

(12)  The  activities  of  pupil  self-government  are  mere  play  and  are 
recognized  as  such  by  the  pupils. 

(i2A)  Even  if  it  is  pleasurable,  it  is  real  play.  The  pupils  con- 
sciously imitate  the  procedure  of  enlightened  citizens,  but  find  great 
enjoyment  in  it.  Therein  is  its  great  value.  They  play,  they  learn, 
they  develop,  they  prepare.  What  more  can  one  ask  of  an  educational 
device  than  that  it  molds  character  effectively  and  joyfully? 

From  a  free  bulletin  of  the  School  Citizen's  Committee,  by  Richard  Welling,  No.  2  ; 
Wall  Street,  New  York. 


304  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

Comment  on  Pupil  Cooperation  in  School  Government 

Our  study  of  "  primary  groups  "  and  particularly  of  the  social  life 
of  the  school  furnishes  the  point  of  view  from  which  to  understand 
the  nature  and  value  of  pupil  self-government  or  pupil  cooperation 
in  government.  The  problem  of  managing  a  school  is  intimately 
connected  with  the  fact  that  it  has  a  corporate  life.  Government  is 
always  a  social  affair;  that  is,  it  always  involves  some  sort  of  inter- 
actions between  people,  whether  in  a  gang,  a  club,  a  school  or  a  state. 
This  is  true  even  in  those  schools  in  which  the  teachers  are  autocratic 
rulers  and  the  pupils  obey,  not  as  free  agents,  but  because  they  must. 
It  is  even  more  thoroughly  a  social  matter  in  a  school  with  a  normal, 
well-developed  corporate  life.  In  the  former  type  of  school  the  system 
of  control  is  external;  it  is  thrust  upon  the  pupils  from  without.  In 
the  latter  the  control  is  internal;  that  is,  it  is  one  of  the  natural  ex- 
pressions of  the  school's  corporate  life. 

As  we  have  seen,  all  social  groups  exercise  quite  naturally  and  neces- 
sarily a  definite  control  over  the  individuals  within  them,  and  they 
possess  in  some  form  or  other  what  may  be  called  an  instinct  or  pos- 
sibly an  ideal  of  lawfulness.  Without  some  authority  over  the  in- 
dividual and  without  some  capacity  to  harmonize  diverse  interests, 
the  group  would  soon  cease  to  exist.  Control  and  lawfulness  in  some 
form  are  basic  presuppositions  for  all  social  life.  Even  the  worst 
school,  then,  has  at  least  the  raw  material  for  the  higher  organic  type 
of  social  control.  In  such  a  school,  the  ideal  of  lawfulness  is  present, 
even  though  it  may  not  be  exercised  for  the  highest  good  of  the  school. 
Likewise  the  conduct  of  each  individual  pupil  is  controlled  in  certain 
definite  ways  by  the  group  in  which  he  moves,  notwithstanding  the 
conduct  thus  produced  may  be  far  other  than  that  most  desired  by 
the  teacher.  It  is  the  fact,  however,  that  there  is  a  social  control  and 
a  sense  of  justice,  even  though  exercised  on  low  levels,  that  has  ren- 
dered possible  the  development,  sometimes  under  most  unpromising 
conditions,  of  student  participation  in  school  government. 

The  arguments  for,  and  illustrations  of,  pupil  cooperation  in  gov- 
ernment are  clearly  stated  in  the  quoted  papers.  It  will  be  sufficient  in 
this  summary  to  emphasize  certain  underlying  principles.  There  are 
two  main  reasons  for  such  cooperation :  First,  it  is  for  the  good  of 
the  school  as  a  whole,  because  the  government  thus  secured  is  usually  » 


DEMOCRATIC   GOVERNMENT  OF  SCHOOLS  305 

better  than  that  secured  through  the  old  monarchical  system.  It  taps 
reserve  springs  of  control  of  whose  existence  the  autocratic  teacher 
does  not  dream.  Cronson  says  of  one  such  democratically  governed 
school,  "  The  most  striking  thing  about  this  school  is  the  prevailing 
attitude  of  geniality  and  contented  industry  which  seemed  to  fill  the 
dingy  old  building  from  top  to  bottom."  l  In  two  districts  of  New 
York  City  where  this  type  of  government  has  been  in  vogue,  it  is  stated 
that  suspensions  of  pupils  for  misconduct  have  not  been  found  neces- 
sary for  several  years.2  In  another  New  York  City  school  the  prin- 
cipal reports :  "  Under  the  plan  in  operation  here  each  child  feels 
responsibility  in  the  common  welfare  and  a  pride  in  the  general 
progress  of  the  pupil  community.  We  have  found  also  that  the  ele- 
ment of  conflict  between  teacher  and  pupil  —  once  thought  to  be  an 
nevitable  part  of  school  life  —  has  been  almost  entirely  eliminated, 
and  in  its  place  has  been  established  the  spirit  of  cooperation.  .  .  . 
The  sense  of  common  ownership  of  school  property  and  individual 
responsibility  for  its  protection  is  one  of  the  logical  developments  of 
our  pupil  self-government.3  In  the  second  place,  this  form  of  govern- 
ment is  most  important  for  the  pupils  individually.  Each  one  needs 
as  a  part  of  his  education  for  future  citizenship  just  the  training  that 
comes  from  genuine  participation  in  a  healthful  corporate  life  with  its 
varied  social  responsibilities.  The  development  of  character  in  the 
individual  child  is  intimately  connected  with  his  social  relationships. 
The  control  exercised  by  a  group  over  the  conduct  of  the  persons  com- 
posing it,  to  which  reference  has  just  been  made,  may  have  a  very 
vital  influence  upon  the  development  of  character.  Of  course,  in  its 
Daser  forms  as  seen  in  the  mob,  the  person  is  completely  subordinated 
to  the  will  of  the  mass.  This  can  scarcely  make  for  the  betterment  of 
the  individual.  But  in  its  higher  forms,  group  control  becomes  a 
great  character-forming  agency.  In  the  school  the  power  of  public 
opinion  to  restrain  the  individual  from  wrongdoing  and  to  punish 
him  in  case  he  has  offended  is  much  greater  and  more  effective  than 
that  possessed  by  any  teacher  or  superintendent.  The  books  of  Dr. 
Reeder  and  Mr.  George  give  striking  illustrations  of  this.4 

1  Pupil  Self-government,  p.  57.         *  Report  of  the  City  Superintendent  of  Schools,  1910. 
'Public  School  No.  no,  Manhattan,  Miss  Adeline  Simpson,  Principal. 
*How  Two  Hundred  Children  Live  and  Learn  and  The  Junior  Republic. 
x 


3o6  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

That  a  school  group  does  thus  exercise  a  certain  amount  of  control 
over  each  separate  pupil  is  the  best  answer  to  those  who  contend  that 
childhood  and  early  youth  are  incapable  of  self-government,  that 
those  are  periods  of  unquestioning  obedience,  of  subjection  to  author- 
ity. As  is  made  clear  in  the  quoted  articles,  pupil  cooperation  in 
government  does  not  mean  the  abdication  of  the  teacher  and  the  plac- 
ing of  full  responsibility  upon  the  children  ;  it  means  rather  utilizing, 
as  far  as  it  is  available,  the  group  control,  instead  of  letting  it  develop 
along  lines  antagonistic  to  good  order.  It  means  giving  the  pupils 
such  responsibility  as  they  are  able  to  carry,  instead  of  giving  them 
none  at  all.  That  the  teacher  or  principal  has  final  authority  does  not 
mean  that  the  pupil  cooperation  is  make-believe  any  more  than  a 
president  with  veto  power  is  inconsistent  with  a  democratic  form  of 
national  government.  The  teachers  must  be  genuine  factors  in  the 
school  group,  sharing  in  its  life  and  contributing  their  part  toward 
making  it  what  it  is.  Their  part  may  be  a  preponderant  one,  but  it 
need  not  rob  the  pupils  of  vital  responsibility.  J  It  is  a  factor  in  char- 
acter development  because  it  makes  the  pupils  conscious  of  the  prob- 
lems of  conduct  and  demands  of  them  the  exercise  of  initiative  and 
choice  rather  than  dependence  upon  the  decision  of  another.  Unless 
such  things  are  raised  to  the  level  of  consciousness  and  made  subjects 
of  reflection,  they  do  not  become  means  of  real  growth  in  boys  and  girls. 
Proper  ideals  of  conduct  can  be  developed  only  through  daily  practice 
in  evaluating  acts  and  in  choosing  one  thing  rather  than  another.  A 
pupil  trained  in  the  monarchical  type  of  school  may  acquire  excellent 
habits  of  conduct,  but  more  than  likely  he  will  have  done  so  little  in- 
dependent thinking  and  choosing  that  when  he  leaves  school  he  will  be 
unable  to  carry  them  over  and  adapt  them  to  the  needs  of  his  adult 
life.  In  a  school,  on  the  other  hand,  which  affords  participation  in  the 
problems  of  government,  the  pupil  not  only  acquires  good  habits,  but 
also  right  ideals  of  life,  and  these  he  is  much  more  likely  to  carry  away 
with  him  from  the  school,  and  much  more  likely  is  it  that  he  will  pre- 
serve them  as  vital  principles  of  conduct  when  he  enters  adult  society. 


DEMOCRATIC   GOVERNMENT  OF  SCHOOLS  307 

BIBLIOGRAPHY  ON  PUPIL  PARTICIPATION  IN  SCHOOL 

GOVERNMENT 

BAGLEY,  W.  C.  Classroom  Management,  pp.  290-298.  A  brief  de- 
scription, a  note  of  warning,  advantages,  Charter  of  the  Arsenal 
School  City,  Hartford,  Connecticut. 

BREWER,  J.  M.  "Plans  for  student  cooperation  in  school  govern- 
ment," Ed.  Rev.,  37  :  519-525.  1909.  Reports  some  personal  ob- 
servations and  gives  plans  for  introduction  of. 

BROWN,  J.  F.  The  American  High  School,  297-301.  Brief  comment 
upon  different  types  of  school  government. 

BUCK,  WINIFRED.  Boys'  Self-governing  Clubs.  New  York,  1903. 
Affords  many  illustrations  of  the  controlling  power  of  corporate 
life. 

BUSHNELL,  C.  J.  "Hiram  House  Social  Settlement,"  World  To-day, 
12:532-535.  1907.  The  plan  and  working  of  a  juvenile  city. 
Too  much  evidence  of  adult  authority. 

CALL,  A.  D.     "Government  in  school  and  college,"  Ed.,  27 :  253-341. 

CLAPP,  H.  L.  "Self-government  in  public  schools,"  Ed.,  29:335- 
344.  1909.  Devoted  to  arguments  against ;  picks  out  extreme 
cases  of  laxity ;  points  worth  considering. 

CORNMAN.    N.  E.  A.,  1908,  290.    A  criticism. 

CRONSON.  Pupil  self-government,  its  theory  and  practice.  New  York, 
1907.  Best  extended  discussion  of  principles  and  methods. 

DEWEY,  J.     "Teaching  ethics  in  the  high  school,"  Ed.  Rev.,  6:313. 

FISKE,  GEORGE  W.  Boy  Life  and  Self -Government,  Y.  M.  C.  A.  Press. 
1910.  Confined  to  boys'  clubs  under  auspices  of  the  Association. 

FOERSTER.    S chide  und  Character,  219-233. 

FRENCH,  C.  W.  "School  government,"  S.  Rev.,  6:35.  1898.  An 
enlightening  article  based  on  experience,  giving ;  objects  of  school 
city;  nature  of  organization;  results  of  experiments  and  con- 
clusions. 

"Problems  of  school  government,"  S.  Rev.,  8 :  201,    Reason  for, 

and  importance  of,  self-government.  Will  make  schools  more 
truly  American;  will  develop  social  life;  will  afford  basis  for 
moral  instruction  by  teaching  purpose  of  law  and  its  relation  to 
will  of  individual. 

"School  cityidea,"  S.  Rev.,  13  :  33-41.    1905.    Reasons  for  failure 

in  some  places ;  aims  to  develop  a  working  knowledge  of  practical 


3o8  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

politics ;  obligations  of  individual  to  society ;  personal  righteous- 
ness.    All  these  things  actually  accomplished. 

FINDLAY,  J.  J.  "The  corporate  life  of  school,"  S.  Rev.,  15  :  744-753  ; 
1 6 :  601-608.  Opportunities  for  pupil  participation  in  govern- 
ment offered  by  the  English  "house  system. " 

GEORGE,  W.  The  Junior  Republic.  Many  fine  illustrations  of  the 
restraining  power  of  group  life,  especially  of  one's  peers. 

GUNCKEL,  J.  Boyville.  Fine  illustrations  of  the  character-forming 
power  of  healthy  public  opinion. 

HOLLISTER,  H.  High  School  Administration,  198-200.  Two  illustra- 
tions of  successful  self-government. 

LELAND,  A.     "Self-government  in  a  Junior  Republic,"  Char.,  13  : 36. 

McANDREW,  W.  A.  "High  school  self-government,"  S.  Rev.,  5 :  456- 
460.  Scheme  once  in  vogue  in  Pratt  Institute  High  School. 

MACKENZIE,  J.  C.  "Honor  in  student  life,"  S.  Rev.,  7:69.  Dis- 
cusses ethics  of  students'  concealing  the  misconduct  of  fellow 
students. 

MAXWELL,  WM.  Annual  Reports  of  the  New  York  City  Schools,  espe- 
cially for  years  1905,  1906,  1910.  Recommends  school  city  idea 
and  reports  progress  of  scheme  in  various  schools  of  city. 

NASON,  A.  N.  "The  Cony  High  School  Assembly:  an  unconscious 
experiment  in  training  for  citizenship,"  S.  Rev.,  14  :  505.  Refers 
to  power  of  student  body  to  control  and  administer  for  good  of 
school  the  finances  of  certain  student  organizations. 

O'SHEA,  M.  V.  Social  Development  and  Education,  Chapter  XIII, 
"Cooperation  in  group  education." 

PERRY.  The  Management  of  a  City  School,  283-290.  A  practical  dis- 
cussion and  working  suggestions. 

PHILIPS,  W.  L.  "Pupil  cooperation  in  school  government,"  Ed., 
22  :  538-554.  An  epitome  of  history  of  movement;  some  testi- 
monials given. 

PUFFER.  "Boys'  gangs,"  Fed.  S.,  12: 175-212.  An  empirical  study 
throwing  light  on  problems  of  corporate  control. 

PUGSLEY,  F.  L.  "Control  over  school  children  by  school  authorities," 
Ed.,  28 :  265. 

RAY,  JOHN  T.  Democratic  Government  of  our  Schools.  1899.  (Pam- 
phlet.) Vide  preceding  quotations  from. 

REEDER,  RUDOLPH.  How  Two  Hundred  Children  Live  and  Learn, 
Chapters  VI,  VII.  Controlling  power  of  the  opinion  of  one's  peers. 


DEMOCRATIC  GOVERNMENT  OF  SCHOOLS  309 

Report  of  Commissioner  of  Education,  1902,  1:235.  "Educational 
pathology  or  self-government  in  school." 

ROBINSON,  L.  V.  "City  of  Hawthorne/'  Char.,  15:182.  Self- 
government  on  a  playground;  children  elect  officers,  make  laws 
and  punish  lawbreakers. 

SADLER,  M.  Moral  Instruction  and  Training  in  Schools.  Suggestions 
as  to  status  of  self-government  in  England. 

SMITH,  B.  N.     "Self-government  in  public  schools,"  Atlantic,  102  :  675. 
STOWE,  LYMAN  BEECHER.     "School  Republics,"  Outlook,  90:339- 

348.     A  valuable  description  of  actual  working  of,  in  certain  New 

York  schools. 
THURBER,  C.  N.     "High  school  self-government,"  S.  Rev.,  5:32-35. 

An  early  account. 
WALKER,  P.  A.     "Self-government  in  the  high  school,"  El.  S.  T., 

7:451-457.     1907. 

WELLING,  RICHARD.  Some  Facts  about  Pupil  Self-government.  Free 
pamphlet,  published  by  the  School  Citizens'  Committee,  2  Wall 
Street,  New  York  City.  The  best  summary  available ;  avowedly 
a  propaganda. 

YENDES,  L.  A.  "School  children  who  govern  themselves,"  Chaut., 
30: 135.  First  experiment  of  the  sort;  serious  government,  not 
a  mimic  affair. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

THE  PERSONAL   FACTOR   IN   THE   SOCIAL   LIFE   OF   THE   SCHOOL 

Personal  Influence  and  Leadership 

IN  our  study  of  group,  or  corporate,  activities,  we  have  as  yet  not 
specifically  raised  the  question  as  to  whether  they  are  shaped  and 
directed  in  any  great  degree  by  single  individuals.  The  question  here 
involved  is  the  large  one  of  the  place  of  the  person  in  the  social  process. 
Is  the  apparently  dominant  individual  really  an  important  factor  in 
determining  a  course  of  events,  or  is  his  seeming  control  over  them  an 
illusion,  he  being  borne  along  in  a  current  over  which  he  has  little  or  no 
control?  Views  quite  the  opposite  of  each  other  have  been  held  by 
social  philosophers.  Carlyle,  for  instance,  considered  the  great  man 
as  of  supreme  importance  in  history.  His  Heroes  and  Hero-Worship 
is  a  eulogy  upon  the  part  played  by  a  commanding  personality  in 
shaping  the  course  of  human  events.  Tolstoy,  on  the  other  hand,  held 
that  the  so-called  great  man  is  little  more  than  a  puppet  pushed  for- 
ward by  happenings  over  which  he  really  has  no  control.1  An  induc- 
tive study  of  social  psychology,  and  of  primary  groups  in  particular, 
makes  it  clear  that  neither  of  these  views  is  wholly  correct.  Every 
individual  in  a  social  group  both  influences  the  behavior  of  his  fellows, 
and  is  in  turn  influenced  by  them.  Each  person  adds  something  to 
the  common  life  and  takes  something  from  it.  The  amounts  received 
and  taken  are  not  fixed,  but  vary  with  time,  place,  and  individual.  A 
single  person  may  exert  a  great  influence  in  the  life  of  a  limited  group, 
for  example,  in  a  family,  a  neighborhood  or  a  school,  but  his  definite 
contribution  to  the  course  of  events  in  the  great  world  without  is  very 
much  less.  In  relatively  restricted  circles  personal  ascendency  and 
influence  are  very  real  forces,  and  must  be  reckoned  with.  What 
Carlyle  has  to  say  of  the  hero  is  quite  true  within  primary  groups ; 
beyond  these  narrow  circles  it  has  a  rapidly  diminishing  significance. 

i  War  and  Peace,  Vol.  IV. 


PERSONAL  FACTOR  IN  SOCIAL  LIFE  OF  THE  SCHOOL    311 

But  even  though  Tolstoy  may  have  been  correct  in  holding  that 
the  great  national  hero  has  little  to  do  with  shaping  the  happenings 
with  which  he  is  associated,  the  problem  of  personal  ascendency  and 
leadership  is  not  less  real  or  important.  The  larger  movements  of 
society  are  made  up  in  part  of  the  smaller  movements  of  the  subordi- 
nate groups,  so  that  history  in  the  end  may  be  regarded  as  the  resultant 
of  the  influence  of  the  dominant  individuals  of  these  elementary  so- 
cial bodies.  Moreover,  the  problem  of  personal  ascendency  is  particu- 
larly important  in  a  social  view  of  education,  because  the  educative 
process  itself  is  actually  a  primary  group  process.  Whatever  may  be 
the  influence  of  the  single  individual  in  the  world  at  large,  he  is  ca- 
pable of  being  a  vital  factor  in  the  corporate  life  and  corporate  activity 
of  the  school. 

First  of  all,  let  us  note  how  personal  ascendency  or  leadership  is  of 
importance  within  the  smaller  social  circles.  As  has  been  suggested, 
the  dominant  individual,  or  leader,  is  nearly  always  present  in  the 
family,  in  the  neighborhood,  on  the  playground,  in  the  gang  and  in 
the  club.  The  realization,  within  these  groups,  of  the  ideals  of  justice, 
of  fair  play,  of  lawfulness,  requires  either  temporary  or  permanent 
ascendency  of  a  few  individuals.  The  very  fact  of  intimate  face-to- 
face  association  carries  with  it  the  need  of  a  certain  amount  of  control 
of  the  individuals  concerned.  The  group  as  a  whole  always  exercises 
some  restraining  influence  upon  the  individual  member,  but  this  social 
will  is  apt,  at  times,  to  find  expression  through  a  single  person  who 
stands  in  a  measure  for  the  rest.  The  presence  within  the  group  of 
such  a  lawgiver  is  not  of  necessity  inconsistent  with  a  natural,  spon- 
taneous corporate  life.  In  fact,  it  is  often  the  leader  who  makes  this 
life  possible.  If  each  one  did  exactly  as  he  pleased,  the  conflict  of 
impulses  would  almost  certainly  break  up  the  group. 

Leadership  is,  of  course,  natural  and  welcome  in  proportion  as  the 
leader  is  a  genuine  member  of  the  circle,  for  in  that  case  the  control 
which  he  may  exercise  is  recognized  as  an  expression  of  the  animating 
spirit  of  the  group,  a  control  coming  from  within  and  not  imposed  upon 
it  from  without.  Lawgiving  is  easy  when  the  one  in  authority  has 
the  confidence  of  those  controlled,  and  this  he  can  have  only  as  he  is 
in  some  sense  one  of  them.  The  promoters  of  the  modern  playground 
movement  find  that  it  is  of  the  first  importance  that  a  playground  should 


3I2  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

have  a  director.  There  must  be  some  one  to  interpret  and  focalize  the 
best  impulses  of  the  children,  to  start  the  games,  to  keep  the  strong 
from  imposing  on  the  weak,  and  to  see  that  each  child  has  his  proper 
turn.  It  has  been  found  that  the  children  as  a  whole  not  only  need, 
but  desire,  such  a  leader.  He  is  in  no  sense  a  despot ;  on  the  contrary, 
if  he  is  successful,  he  is  quite  truly  an  organic  part  of  the  corporate 
life  of  the  playground.  He  helps  the  play  group  to  realize  in  fact 
the  desire  for  lawfulness  and  fair  play  which  is  already  there  implic- 
itly. Playground  leadership,  then,  is  clearly  not  inconsistent  with 
the  spontaneity  and  joyousness  that  must  be  in  all  real  play.  In 
fact,  this  is  essential  to  its  fullest  realization. 

It  is  evident  that  the  leader  is  a  genuine  social  product.  As  a  gen- 
eral principle,  it  may  be  said  that  whenever  people  assemble  with  the 
slightest  commonalty  of  purpose,  a  more  or  less  temporary  leader 
develops.  The  conditions  which  tend  to  give  to  some  individual  this 
prestige  or  ascendency  furnish  an  interesting  field  for  inductive  study. 
Specifically,  the  problem  is  this:  What  serves  to  constitute  a  leader 
in  any  group  and  particularly  in  the  school  group,  and  of  what  signifi- 
cance for  the  life  of  the  school  and  for  its  work  are  the  phenomena  of 
leadership  ? 

As  for  underlying  principles,  it  may  be  said  that  they  are  both  bio- 
logical and  psychical.  The  survival  and  development  of  most  forms 
of  animal  life  depend  upon  some  sort  of  unified  or  cooperative  activity. 
A  class  of  animals,  the  individuals  of  which  possess  little  or  no  capacity 
for  acting  in  cooperation  with  others  of  their  kind,  is  at  a  distinct 
disadvantage  which  must  be  offset  by  some  other  qualities  if  the  species 
hold  its  own.  Thus  a  nongregarious  type  may  survive  by  having 
unusual  reproductive  powers  or  extraordinary  fighting  or  defensive 
capacities. 

Among  all  types  of  animals,  including,  of  course,  the  human  species, 
which  have  developed  some  sort  of  group  life,  whether  for  protection 
against  foes  or  for  securing  of  food,  some  one  individual  must  almost 
of  necessity  take  the  lead,  or  set  the  pace  or  the  pattern  for  the  rest. 
Only  thus  could  there  be  a  high  degree  of  unified,  and  hence  effective, 
action.  This  primitive  biological  need  is  sufficient  to  account  for 
the  instinctive  way  in  which  a  group  of  animals  or  of  men,  particularly 
in  times  of  stress,  will  accept  the  guidance  of  some  one  of  their  number. 


PERSONAL  FACTOR  IN  SOCIAL  LIFE  OF  THE   SCHOOL    313 

This  biological  need  is,  also,  responsible  in  part  for  the  development 
of  certain  psychical  characteristics  in  social  animals,  such  as  imitative- 
ness  and  suggestibility.  In  man  especially  the  tendency  to  imitate 
the  action  of  others  is  a  highly  important  factor  in  binding  a  little 
group  together  and  securing  unity  of  action.  While  imitativeness 
and  openness  to  suggestion  are  the  conditions  which  produce  personal 
ascendency,  it  is  clear  that  to  some  extent  the  needed  unity  in  a  social 
group  may  occur  without  definite  leaders.  In  fact,  in  all  stages  of 
human  development  there  is  a  substratum  of  corporate  life  and  com- 
monalty of  action  depending  upon  the  mere  tendency  of  the  members 
of  a  society,  standing  upon  a  common  level,  to  imitate  and  take  sug- 
gestions from  one  another.  But  a  high  degree  of  unity  and  organiza- 
tion of  forces  is  not  possible  unless  some  one  person  acquires  sufficient 
prestige  to  command  the  attention  of  his  fellows.  In  that  case  his 
action  becomes  a  copy  for  the  rest  to  follow.  It  is  not  necessary  that 
the  copy  thus  set  be  of  superior  merit,  that  is,  better  than  what  any 
one  else  might  have  done.  Its  value  rests  primarily  upon  the  fact 
that  it  focalizes  attention  upon  some  one  mode  of  procedure.  This 
of  itself  makes  for  definiteness,  and  hence  for  efficiency  of  action. 

If  it  be  granted,  then,  that  the  leader  is  a  socially  important  factor, 
the  question  next  arises,  what  gives  him  his  prestige?  Are  the  quali- 
ties which  enable  an  individual  to  rise  above  his  fellows  and  set  the 
pattern  for  their  behavior  capable  of  being  determined?  In  general 
terms,  they  are  nothing  more  nor  less  than  capacity  readily  to  attract 
and  hold  attention.  This  power  may,  and  often  does,  have  no  intrin- 
sic relationship  to  the  particular  line  in  which  the  person  acts  as  a 
leader.  It  may  be  merely  sufficient  for  him  to  catch  the  attention  of 
his  fellows  to  render  everything  that  he  does  of  importance.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  leader  may  actually  have  such  personal  power  as  to 
make  him  the  natural  leader  of  his  group. 

In  attempting  to  determine  the  qualities  which  give  the  individual 
prestige  and  power  over  his  fellows,  it  is  worth  while  to  keep  in  mind 
that  there  are  two  types  of  conditions,  —  the  extrinsic  and  the  in- 
trinsic, or,  as  LeBon  has  it,  the  artificial  conditions  and  the  personal 
ones.  Both  types  are  means  of  attracting  attention,  and  in  actual 
life  they  combine  in  intricate  ways.  Even  the  true  leader  of  men  is 
not  altogether  independent  of  those  accidents  of  position  and  circum- 


314  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

stance  which,  though  subordinate  and  accessory,  are  nevertheless  often 
real  factors  in  giving  him  prestige. 

A  few  illustrations  will  perhaps  render  the  above  distinction  clearer, 
and  may  perhaps  help  us  better  to  understand  the  place  and  meaning 
of  the  leader  in  the  corporate  life  of  the  school.  Among  the  lower  ani- 
mals and,  to  a  large  extent,  among  primitive  peoples,  mere  physical 
size,  physical  aggressiveness  or  prowess,  are  important  elements  in 
giving  an  individual  prestige,  and  these  characteristics  are  not  without 
importance  as  accessories  even  among  the  cultured  races.  These 
qualities  are  first  of  all  significant  because  they  attract  attention,  fix 
the  mind  of  the  group  upon  their  possessor,  and  hence  tend  to  make 
anything  he  does  or  says  seem  of  unusual  importance.  Prestige, 
however,  unless  it  is  based,  in  part  at  least,  upon  mental  ability,  that 
is,  upon  intrinsic  qualities,  will  usually  be  quite  short-lived.  It  will 
be  remembered  that  Saul,  the  first  king  of  Israel,  stood  head  and 
shoulders  above  his  fellows.  Samson  was  reputed  to  have  been  the 
strongest  man  of  his  generation,  and  on  this  depended  his  prestige. 
The  crafty  Odysseus  is  an  illustration  of  one  whose  prestige  de- 
pended on  a  certain  mental  superiority.  There  have  been  studies  in 
the  origin  of  leadership  among  primitive  peoples,  but  none  of  them 
can  carry  us  back  of  these  elemental  physical  and  mental  qualities 
which  enable  a  man  to  do  something  that  may  help  or  hurt  his  fellows, 
hence  something  which  they  fear  or  admire. 

An  interesting  illustration  is  furnished  by  certian  Indian  tribes 
which  have  no  chiefs  except  in  time  of  a  great  hunt  or  a  war.  Then 
the  strongest,  most  successful  hunter  or  the  most  intrepid  fighter  al- 
most automatically  becomes  the. leader.  As  soon  as  the  need  or  the 
crisis  has  passed,  he  drops  back  into  the  common  ranks.  Among  some 
primitive  but  less  warlike  races,  prestige  may  depend  in  part  upon 
property  or  upon  the  reputed  possession  of  some  mysterious  or  magic 
power.  This  explains  the  power  of  the  medicine  man  and  the  prophet. 
Among  some  of  the  Australians  there  are  no  chieftains  other  than 
the  old  men,  and  among  the  old  men  the  oldest  has  the  greatest  au- 
thority. But  here,  as  elsewhere,  mental  qualities  play  an  important 
role.  LeBon  instances  name,  social  station,  uniforms  and  wigs,  as 
among  the  accessory  or  accidental  elements  of  life  which  give  one  at 
least  a  temporary  advantage  over  one's  fellow  men.  "  The  burning 


PERSONAL  FACTOR  IN  SOCIAL  LIFE  OF  THE   SCHOOL    315 

black  eyes  "  of  Mohammed  have  been  mentioned  as  contributing  to 
his  power. 

The  great  leader  adds  power  of  personality  to  these  external  ad- 
vantages, a  quality  which  one  may  attempt  to  describe  by  certain 
adjectives,  but  which  is  after  all  indefinable.  Sometimes  it  seems  to 
consist  largely  in  unwavering  self-confidence,  an  attitude  which,  if 
properly  balanced,  creates  in  others  the  attitude  of  expectation  and 
readiness  to  take  suggestions.  If  one  can  add  to  his  self-confidence, 
forcefulness  and  definiteness  in  word  and  action,  courage,  dignity, 
winning  power,  his  capacity  to  lead  is  still  further  enhanced.  These 
qualities  help  in  various  ways  to  gain  and  hold  the  attention  of  his 
•ellows.  They  might  be  summarized  by  the  characterization  of  the 
.eader  as  strongly  affirmative  in  his  attitude.  He  is  resourceful  and 
positive  rather  than  critical  or  negative. 

The  power  of  a  definite  affirmation  over  men's  minds  is  well  known. 
A  simple  affirmation  is  easily  grasped,  in  external  form  at  least,  and, 
whether  thoroughly  understood  or  not,  may  act  as  a  powerful  sugges- 
tion for  shaping  conduct  in  a  particular  way.  The  critical  faculty 
is  not  highly  developed  in  the  average  adult,  and  certainly  not  in  chil- 
dren. Hence  when  the  reasons  for  action  begin  to  be  discussed,  and 
even  a  desirable  procedure  is  subjected  to  analysis  and  criticism,  it  often 
loses  its  hold  on  people's  minds. 

The  man  who  leads  his  fellows  is,  then,  one  who  has  a  clear  vision 
of  something  definite  to  be  done  —  is  able  to  give  a  few  good  reasons 
for  doing  it,  and  rests  content  with  keeping  these  persistently  in  the 
attention  of  his  group.  To  attempt  to  give  more  elaborate  or  deep- 
seated  reasons  or  to  discuss  possible  objections,  serves  only  to  confuse 
people  and  destroy  their  confidence  in  the  plan's  feasibility.  It  fol- 
lows that  those  who  are  preeminent  in  intellectual  lines  alone  cannot 
expect  to  have. a  wide  following,  partly  for  the  reason  that  their  minds 
are  too  analytic,  and  partly,  also,  because  their  peculiar  ability  does 
not  appeal  to  the  popular  imagination.  A  Newton  or  a  Galileo,  even 
though  their  final  influence  on  human  progress  may  be  great,  cannot 
even  yet  gain  that  immediate  power  over  their  fellows  that  comes  so 
readily  to  a  man  of  action.  When  a  scholar  does  gain  ready  accept- 
ance as  a  national  hero,  it  is  usually  because  he  has  done  something 
which  has  attracted  attention  in  a  large  way.  Thus,  in  France,  some 


3i6  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

years  ago  a  vote,  which  was  supposed  to  be  representative,  was  taken 
to  determine  who,  in  the  popular  mind,  was  the  greatest  Frenchman 
of  the  nineteenth  century.  Pasteur  outranked  all  others.  But  it  was 
scarcely  his  ability  as  an  abstract  scientist  that  gave  him  this  prestige,  — 
rather  the  fact  that  he  had,  in  his  discovery  of  a  cure  for  hydrophobia, 
for  the  silkworm  disease  and  for  anthrax,  rendered  great  social  services 
readily  comprehended  and  appreciated  by  the  masses  of  his  country- 
men. A  thoroughly  competent  and  scholarly  man,  unless  he  has  done 
something  spectacular,  can  with  difficulty  secure  election  to  an  im- 
portant office  in  a  democracy. 

In  the  preceding  discussion  we  have  shown  that  the  power  of  the 
leader  depends  on  his  ability  to  command  attention  and  inspire  con- 
fidence. This  is  the  fundamental  condition  even  in  the  case  of  highly 
complex  social  groups,  and,  difficult  as  the  problem  seems  of  fusing 
diverse  impulses  and  bringing  them  into  effective  action,  it  may  often 
be  accomplished  in  quite  simple  ways.  The  power  of  the  leader  often 
consists  not  so  much  in  the  elaborateness  of  the  means  he  uses,  but 
upon  the  insight  which  enables  him  to  diagnose  the  situation  and  make 
use  of  relatively  simple  expedients. 

The  social  effectiveness  of  a  person  is  measured  by  his  ability  to 
liberate  and  coordinate  the  greatest  amount  of  useful  energy  in  those 
among  whom  he  moves.  The  mere  fact  that  a  man  gains  power  over 
his  fellows  through  means  that  are  gross  and  primitive  is  not  of  itself 
sufficient  to  condemn  him.  He  may  thereby  liberate  the  maximum 
of  energy  in  his  fellows  and  actually  lead  them  to  the  accomplishment 
of  a  worthy  end.  The  real  difficulty,  for  instance,  with  mere  brute 
aggressiveness  is  that  it  is  more  than  likely  not  effective  in  any  genuine 
sense.  A  group  of  people  may  seem  to  be  led  for  a  time,  may  appear 
to  be  unified  and  effective,  but  as  a  matter  of  fact  their  best  energies 
are  not  called  into  play  nor  their  real  purposes  accomplished.  They 
are  rather  dominated  by  an  overbearing  will,  and,  instead  of  realizing 
their  own  purposes  fully,  they  become  subordinated  to  the  selfish 
purposes  of  the  leader.  Under  such  circumstances  the  energies  of  a 
body  of  people  may  be  said  to  be  exploited  by  the  leader  for  his  own 
aggrandizement.  The  power  of  Napoleon  over  France  was  of  this 
sort.  In  no  sense  could  he  be  said  to  have  aroused  or  enlisted  the  true 
genius  of  the  nation.  He  did  not  interpret  his  people,  but  seized  upon 


PERSONAL  FACTOR  IN  SOCIAL  LIFE  OF  THE  SCHOOL    317 

certain  isolated  brute  impulses  and  exploited  them  for  his  own  selfish 
ends. 

Any  and  all  of  the  means  which  tend  to  give  a  man  prestige  and 
power  over  his  fellows  are  to  be  condemned  if  they  are  not  used  for 
social  ends,  if  they  are  not  used  to  help  the  group  to  do  more  effectively 
that  which  it  was  already  striving  blindly  to  accomplish.  The  true 
leader  must  be  an  interpreter  of  his  group,  one  who  helps  it  to  a  fuller 
realization  of  the  best  qualities  implicit  within  it.  This  does  not  mean 
that  he  should  be  a  mere  time  server,  simply  giving  his  followers  what 
they  think  they  want.  It  is  too  often  that  political  leaders  do  not 
rise  above  such  a  plane  of  service  as  this.  The  true  leader  sees  deeper 
than  the  popular  cry  and  tries  to  bring  to  bear  the  awakened  energies  of 
his  group  upon  that  which  is  as  yet  only  imperfectly  realized,  that  which 
is  still  formless  and  incoherent,  but  which  his  insight  tells  him  is  the  true, 
underlying  self  struggling  for  expression.  The  great  leader  thus  stands 
ahead  of  his  people  and  is  yet  in  vital  sympathetic  relation  with  them. 

These  fundamental  principles  of  personal  ascendency  have  a  practi- 
cal bearing  upon  almost  every  phase  of  human  life,  and  certainly  upon 
the  corporate  life  of  the  school.  Not  only  do  the  phenomena  of  lead- 
ership find  interesting  illustration  in  this  miniature  society,  they  are 
of  great  significance,  also,  for  the  proper  understanding  and  control  of 
the  educational  process  which  the  school  is  supposed  to  direct.  Among 
the  pupils  themselves  it  is  inevitable  that  there  should  be  some  with 
more  influence  than  others.  The  teacher,  also,  by  sheer  virtue  of  his 
position  and  seniority,  has  presumably  some  ascendency,  and  the  school 
could  hardly  be  called  a  successful  one  in  which  the  teacher  is  not  in 
actuality  a  genuine  leader  of  his  boys  and  girls. 

The  same  qualities  which  attract  attention  and  give  prestige  in 
adult  society  are  operative  in  the  school,  with  perhaps  greater  em- 
phasis upon  those  of  the  more  primitive  type.  At  least  this  is  the 
case  if  the  school  society  is  allowed  to  take  care  of  itself.  In  the  aver- 
age school  the  pupil  of  fine  or  strong  physical  appearance  and  of  ag- 
gressive social  temperament  is  quite  apt  to  gain  a  decided  power  over 
his  fellows  and  to  determine  in  large  measure  what  they  shall  think 
and  do.  One  of  the  practical  and  serious  problems  of  education  is 
that  of  recognizing  and  utilizing  to  the  best  advantage  this  personal 
element  which  is  so  inevitably  involved  in  the  educative  process. 


3i8  SOCIAL  ASPECTS   OF  EDUCATION 


When  a  school  first  assembles,  certain  pupils  will  quickly  and  natu- 
rally take  the  lead  of  their  fellows ;  some  one  or  more  will  dominate 
the  whole  school  group;  others  will  dominate  the  lesser  groups  of 
classes  and  cliques.  If  the  children  are  largely  unknown  to  each  other, 
these  first  leaders  will  gain  their  power  through  the  grosser,  more 
striking,  qualities  which  have  the  power  to  excite  ready  attention,  such 
as  strong  physical  presence  or  social  aggressiveness,  —  braggadocio, 
clothes  or  some  other  physical  possession.  The  general  behavior  of 
these  pupils,  their  opinions,  attitude  toward  the  school  work  and  sports, 
will  be  spontaneously  imitated  by  the  rest  of  the  school. 

As  the  school  group  becomes  more  thoroughly  acquainted,  there 
may  be  a  shifting  of  the  dominant  persons.  Those  who  first  gained 
prestige  must  make  good,  or  they  will  not  keep  their  following.  To 
make  good  requires  that  they  should  have  ability  that  is  real,  even 
though  not  of  the  finest  type.  The  boy  must  be  really  strong,  really 
able  to  put  up  a  skillful  fight,  accomplished  in  some  sport  as  ball, 
marbles  or  jumping,  or,  as  some  have  expressed  it,  able  to  show  his 
companions  how  to  do  something  which  appeals  to  them.  The  girl 
must  have  real  social  qualities  and  perhaps  superior  taste.  Here  in  the 
little  school  society  all  the  principles  of  personal  ascendency  in  general 
and  of  leadership  in  particular  will  be  found  to  hold  good.  But,  just  be- 
cause of  the  immaturity  of  the  participants,  if  the  matter  takes  care  of 
itself,  it  is  more  than  likely  that  the  pupil  leader  will  be  of  an  inferior 
type,  —  that  is,  instead  of  his  being  genuine,  an  interpreter  and 
organizer  of  the  sentiments  and  impulses  of  his  fellow  pupils,  he  may, 
more  or  less  thoughtlessly,  merely  dominate  them  and  exploit  their 
energies  for  his  own  selfish  gratification  or  love  of  power.  Every 
school,  in  fine,  has  many  types  of  personality,  some  of  which  are 
bound  to  gain  prestige  and  power,  and  the  type  which  naturally  ac- 
quires this  power  is  not  necessarily  of  the  most  desirable  sort, 
teacher's  control  over  a  school  often  depends  entirely  upon  his  abilit; 
to  enlist  in  his  behalf  a  natural  leader,  who,  if  left  to  himself,  wouL 
ruin  the  school.  It  is  a  part  of  the  teacher's  problem  so  to  develo; 
and  control  the  school's  social  life  that  the  natural  leaders  may  o 
operate  with  him,  and  that  the  finer  qualities  of  character  in  bo 
teacher  and  pupils  will  have  due  opportunity  to  assert  themselves 
the  school  life.  And  furthermore  he  must  so  organize  the  work 


PERSONAL  FACTOR  IN  SOCIAL  LIFE  OF  THE  SCHOOL    { 

the  school  that  all  pupils  will  have  some  opportunity  for  self-asser- 
tion. All  cannot  be  leaders  in  the  narrow  sense.  But,  all  should  have 
forceful  personalities.  One  of  the  defects  of  school  education  is  that 
it  does  not  sufficiently  develop  individuality  and  initiative;  pupils 
are  too  ready  to  be  directed  and  led  rather  than  to  take  the  lead.  As 
Terman  says :  "  It  seems  that  initiative  and  leadership  are  sometimes 
matters  of  habit.  The  habit,  however,  will  develop  only  when  nour- 
ished by  self-confidence.  If  one  is  too  early  made  conscious  of  one's 
weakness  and  shortcomings  by  stronger  friends,  the  chances  are  that 
a  chronic  timidity  will  make  the  person  a  follower  and  hanger-on  for 
life  instead  of  a  leader.  It  is  essential  to  the  healthy  development  of 
any  youth  that  in  something  or  other  he  should  feel  himself  superior 
to  any  one  around  him.  If  leadership  does  not  develop  in  youth,  it 
is  never  likely  to  appear,  or,  if  it  does,  only  in  narrow  lines."  * 

The  teacher,  then,  must  seek  for  ways  to  give  to  each  pupil  some- 
thing of  the  confidence  and  self-reliance  that  is  inherent  in  the  natural 
leader.  And  he  should  furthermore  seek  out  the  really  strong  char- 
acters and  see  that  no  petty  circumstance  prevents  their  having  their 
rightful  influence  in  the  school  group.  But  even  the  finer  types  of 
character  must  not  be  too  far  removed  from  the  general  level  of  the 
school.  If  they  are  much  superior,  they  must  have  some  qualities  at 
least  which  will  appeal  to  the  whole  school  body.  In  schools  with  a 
Wealthy  social  atmosphere,  however,  it  is  not  unusual  for  students  of 
fine  character  to  be  the  leaders  in  opinion  and  conduct.  A  particular 
illustration  comes  to  mind.  It  was  a  small  private  academy  of  per- 
tiaps  eighty  pupils.  The  acknowledged  leader  of  the  school  was  a 
senior  girl  of  good  physical  presence,  an  excellent  student,  quiet  and 
dignified  in  manner,  not  openly  aggressive,  but  sociable,  sympathetic 
and  tactful.  She  was  the  arbiter  of  public  opinion  and  taste  in  that 
school.  Rough  boys  acquiesced  to  her  decisions,  and  there  were  few 
who  had  the  hardihood  to  appeal  from  what  she  decided  was  proper. 

Important  for  the  work  of  the  school  as  are  the  facts  of  personal 
ascendency  among  students,  they  are  even  more  vitally  significant 
in  the  case  of  the  teacher.  If  a  teacher  is  anything  at  all,  he  must  be 
a  man  of  force  and  a  leader,  a  dominating  personality  in  his  school. 
That  he  should  be  such  a  power  is  not  in  any  way  inconsistent  with 

1  Pedagogical  Seminary,  n  :  443. 


320  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

right  ideals  of  education.  It  is  true  that  the  strong  teacher  may  be  a 
benevolent  despot,  but  it  is  not  necessary  that  he  should  be.  He  may 
be  the  dominant  individual  in  a  perfectly  normal,  spontaneous  school 
life.  His  dominance  does  not  express  itself  by  imposing  his  own  ideas 
upon  his  pupils;  it  rather  comes  through  helping  them  realize  the  best 
type  of  corporate  life  and  by  acting  among  them  as  an  interpreter  and 
coordinator  of  diverse  interests. 

In  such  a  school  there  may  be  real  participation  of  the  students  in 
the  matter  of  government,  real  development  of  initiative  and  self- 
reliance.  In  fact,  the  best  type  of  personal  influence  on  the  part  of 
the  teacher,  instead  of  being  a  hindrance,  is  the  most  important  condi- 
tion for  the  development  of  these  very  qualities  in  the  pupils.  But, 
in  the  case  of  the  teacher,  as  of  the  student  body,  there  are  wrong  as 
well  as  right  types  of  personal  ascendency.  As  has  been  said,  the  true 
teacher  must  be  an  interpreter  of  the  life  of  his  school  —  ever  endeavor- 
ing to  bring  it  to  a  higher  realization  of  its  best  impulses.  This  is 
what  is  meant  by  the  statement  that  the  teacher  must  be  an  inspirer, 
a  person  who  can  arouse  each  individual  pupil  to  do  his  very  best  and 
who  can,  more  than  that,  arouse  the  best  energies  of  the  student  body 
as  a  whole.  Of  course,  a  teacher  may  fall  far  short  of  this  sort  of 
leadership.  He  may  control  his  school  by  primitive  means  and  be  in 
no  sense  an  interpreter.  As  Conover  says:  "  Children  may  be  bullied 
and  tricked  into  order  and  a  certain  kind  of  attention ;  they  will  ad- 
mire the  grand  manner  and  obey  the  voice  and  gesture  of  the  charlatan, 
but  their  hearts  are  not  won;  and  worse  than  all  is  the  destructive 
lesson  in  the  shallowness  of  man.  It  surely  is  better  that  a  man  should 
never  have  been  born  than  that  he  should  cause  one  of  these  little 
ones  to  lose  faith.  A  child  is  a  hero  worshiper  before  he  is  a  critic,  and 
often  an  unconscious  mimic  of  what  he  may  afterwards  despise."  ] 
And  again,  "  One  wonders  at  the  apparent  success  of  a  man  who  is 
often  harsh  and  brutal  in  voice  or  manner ;  and  a  young  teacher  will 
be  thus  tempted  to  assume  the  hardness  he  does  not  feel.  Success 
of  this  sort  is  like  the  success  of  any  other  tyrant,  and  is  criminally 
out  of  place  among  teachers  of  children."  2 

If  the  teacher  is  to  be  an  interesting  and  inspiring  person,  the  most 
essential  of  all  things  is  that  he  should  be  honest.  He  who  is  genuine 

1  Personality  in  Education,  p.  9.  s  Ibid.,  p.  18. 


PERSONAL  FACTOR  IN  SOCIAL  LIFE  OF  THE   SCHOOL    321 

and  sincere  in  all  his  acts  and  thoughts  is  almost  inevitably  attractive. 
What  no  one  is  interested  in,  is  artificiality,  and  pupils  are  adepts  at 
detecting  it  and  putting  it  to  scorn.  We  want  our  leaders  first  of  all 
to  be  themselves.  We  give  almost  instinctive  acquiescence  to  one 
who  speaks  a  genuine  word.  Nor  is  this  sincerity  in  word  and  life 
something  the  teacher  can  counterfeit,  or  put  off  and  on  at  will.  He 
must  every  minute  be  of  a  truth  the  character  he  pretends  to  be. 

Along  with  sincerity  must  go  belief  in  one's  self  and  in  the  worth- 
fulness  of  what  one  is  doing  and  above  all  joy  in  the  doing  of  it.  A 
teacher  who  does  not  believe  in  himself  and  in  the  value  of  his  work 
even  to  the  point  of  exaggeration  will  not  gain  many  followers.  It  is 
especially  necessary  for  the  teacher  to  be  enthusiastic  and  joyful.  He 
faces  the  difficult  problem  of  building  up  new  interests  in  boys  and 
girls,  interests  often  remote  from  the  restricted  native  impulses  with 
which  they  come  to  school.  The  average  boy  will  not  be  convinced 
that  arithmetic  or  geography,  Latin  or  botany,  are  worthy  of  his  best 
efforts  unless  he  is  taught  by  one  who  is  full  of  enthusiasm  for  these 
subjects.  His  first  interest  will  often  be  simply  some  of  the  eagerness 
of  his  teacher,  imparted  to  him  by  suggestion.  "  The  pupil  believes 
in  the  value  of  the  subject  matter  because  the  suggestiveness  of  the 
teacher's  enthusiasm  makes  him  see  it  with  new  eyes."  1  It  is  a  dull 
person,  indeed,  who  can  work  under  such  an  ardent  teacher  and  not 
begin  to  have  his  own  soul  fired  with  the  same  zeal.  If  in  the  ordinary 
studies  the  teacher  must  be  possessed  of  a  genuine  and  forceful  per- 
sonality in  order  to  infuse  his  pupils  with  a  living  interest,  it  is  even 
more  important  from  the  point  of  view  of  moral  training  that  he  should 
be  such  a  person. 

The  principles  of  right  living  and  of  duty  are  not  attractive  unless 
they  find  concrete  embodiment  in  the  life  of  some  forceful  man  or 
woman.  Here,  as  elsewhere,  the  interest  in,  and  enthusiasm  for,  ideals 
must  be  built  up  by  daily  contact  with  one  who  is  already  thoroughly 
vital  himself. 

The  teacher,  then,  as  a  leader  in  the  school  group,  must  be  genuine, 
unselfish,  sympathetic  and  joyful,  and  yet  with  plenty  of  the  forceful- 
ness  and  belief  in  one's  self  which  belongs  to  a  virile  manhood  and 
womanhood.  As  one  has  said,  we  refuse  to  be  helped  by  those  who 

1  Miinsterberg,  Psychology  and  the  Teacher,  p.  317, 
Y 


322  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

wish  to  do  so  from  a  sense  of  duty,  but  we  readily  yield  to  the  one  who 
makes  us  feel  he  is  having  the  time  of  his  life  when  he  is  assisting  us. 
"  Unless  we  heartily  enjoy  ourselves,  other  people  will  not  allow  us 
to  improve  their  minds  or  their  morals."  The  teacher  who  is  lacking 
in  these  important  qualities  can  do  much  by  self-suggestion  to  supply 
his  deficiencies,  that  is,  by  determinedly  thinking  right  thoughts  — 
by  building  up  his  personality  through  persistent  suggestions  of  cour- 
age and  efficiency.  A  person  of  weak,  uninspiring  presence  can  thus 
make  himself  over  more  or  less  completely  into  a  real  leader. 

After  all,  the  best  account  of  the  meaning  of  personality  is  to  be 
found  in  the  lives  of  some  of  the  great  teachers.  What  has  been  said 
of  Alice  Freeman  Palmer  must  in  some  degree  hold  true  of  every  real 
teacher.  "  Because  of  its  combined  variety  and  firmness  (her)  nature 
contained  some  provision  for  all;  nor  was  it  ever  closed  to  any.  She 
seemed  built  for  bounty,  and  held  nothing  back.  Gayly  she  went 
forth  throughout  her  too  few  years,  scattering  happiness  up  and  down 
neglected  ways.  A  fainting  multitude  flocked  around  to  share  her 
wisdom,  peace,  hardihood,  devoutness  and  merriment;  and  more 
easily  afterwards  accommodated  themselves  to  their  lot.  Strength 
continually  went  forth  from  her.  She  put  on  righteousness,  and  it 
clothed  her,  and  sound  judgment  was  her  daily  crown.  Each  eye  that 
saw  her  blessed  her ;  each  ear  that  heard  her  was  made  glad."  * 

TOPICS  FOR  STUDY  AND  DISCUSSION 

1.  Make  as  complete  a  list  as  possible  of  the  extrinsic  and  intrinsic 
qualities  which  give  a  person  influence  in  a  social  group.     Underline 
those  which  you  have  mentioned  from  your  own  observations.     Con- 
sult, if  necessary,  LeBon,  Ross,  Larned,  Cooley. 

2.  Consider  the  extent  and  the  ways  in  which  one  might  increase 
his  intrinsic   powers   of   leadership.     Self-suggestion,   its  scope  and 
methods.     After  reflection,  consult  Brown,  Faith  and  Health,  Chapter 
IV,  Miinsterberg,  Psychotherapy,  pp.  370-398. 

3.  Study  President  Hyde's  conception  of  a  teacher's  proper  philos- 
ophy of  life.     Might  it  be  acquired  and  actually  used  by  a  teacher 
to  make  himself  a  real  leader  ?     The  Teacher's  Philosophy  in  and  out 
of  School,  William  DeWitt  Hyde,  Riverside  Educational  Monographs, 
1910. 

4.  Study  the  lives  of  such  teachers  as  Thomas  Arnold,   Mark 

1  Life  of  Alice  Freeman  Palmer,  by  G.  H.  Palmer,  pp.  348,  349- 


PERSONAL  FACTOR  IN  SOCIAL  LIFE  OF  THE   SCHOOL    323 

Hopkins  or  Alice  Freeman  Palmer,  and  attempt  to  state  some  of  the 
sources  of  their  personal  power. 

5.  Look  rapidly  through  Larned's  Study  of  Greatness  in  Men,  to 
get  additional  light  on  the  nature  of  great  leaders  with  reference  to 
practical  applications  in  the  school  society. 

6.  The  significance  of  the  "inspirer"  in  Spartan  education. 

7.  To  what  extent  must  the  qualities  of  the  leader  vary  with  the 
age  of  those  led  ?    Illustrate  as  fully  as  possible.     Cf .  Terman. 

8.  What  elements  of  personal  ascendency  are  possessed  by  the 
bully?    What  does  he  lack  of  the  qualities  of   a  real   leader?    Cf. 
Terman. 

9.  What  are  the  effects  upon  a  child  or  youth  of  being  constantly 
snubbed  ? 

10.  Write  out  a  brief  analysis  or  description :  (a)  of  a  pupil  of  superior 
personal  influence ;  (b)  of  a  teacher  of  the  same  type  whom  you  have 
known  intimately. 

BIBLIOGRAPHY 

BELL,  SANFORD.  "A  study  of  the  teacher's  influence,"  Fed.  S.,  7: 
492-525.  Age  at  which  children  are  most  susceptible  to  teacher ; 
importance  of  kindly,  sympathetic  attitude  in  teacher. 

BROWN,  C.  R.  Faith  and  Health:  Chapter  IV.  Building  up  of  one's 
personality  by  self-suggestion. 

BROWN,  J.  F.  The  American  High  School,  207 : 214.  The  per- 
sonality of  the  teacher  dependent  upon  health,  sympathy, 
honesty,  sense  of  humor,  poise,  firmness,  personal  appearance, 
faith  in  human  nature,  etc. 

CARLYLE,  THOMAS.    Heroes  and  Hero-Worship. 

CONOVER,  J.  P.    Personality  in  Education,  Chapter  I,  "The  Teacher." 

COOLEY,  C.  N.  " Leadership  or  personal  ascendency,"  Chapter  IX  in 
Human  Nature  and  the  Social  Order.  This  is  the  fullest  and  best 
available  analysis;  defines  the  relation  of  the  leader  to  the  group ; 
the  mental  traits  and  other  sources  of  power  of  the  leader;  ques- 
tion as  to  whether  he  really  leads. 

FINDLAY,  J.  J.  Arnold  of  Rugby,  Pt.  II,  "School  life  at  Rugby. " 
Cambridge.  1897.  A  valuable  account  of  the  social  life  at  Rugby 
as  shaped  by  the  dominant  personality  of  Arnold.  See  also 
various  of  Arnold's  sermons  in  this  volume. 

HYDE,  W.  DEWITT.  The  Teacher's  Philosophy,  Riverside  Educa- 
tional Monographs,  1910. 

KEATINQE.    Suggestions  in  Education. 


324  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

\ 

LARNED,  J.  N.  A  Study  of  Greatness  in  Men.  Boston,  1911.  Espe- 
cially Chapter  I,  "The  making  of  a  great  man."  A  suggestive 
analysis  of  the  qualities  which  make  for  personal  ascendency. 

LEBON,  G.  The  Crowd,  "  Leaders  of  crowds  and  their  means  of 
persuasion,"  Bk.  II,  Chapter  III.  A  brilliant  but  one-sided  anal- 
ysis of,  the  conditions  of  personal  ascendency.  Regards  the 
masses  too  largely  as  unthinking  and  helpless  automata. 

MUMFORD,  EBEN.  The  Origins  of  Leadership.  Chicago,  1907.  A 
study  of  the  conditions  making  for  personal  ascendency  among 
primitive  peoples. 

MUNSTERBERG,  HUGO.  Psychotherapy.  Contains  suggestions  as  to 
the  conditions  of  mental  health,  and  hence  of  greater  f orcefulness 
of  personality. 

Psychology  and  the  Teacher,  Chapter  XXIX,  "The  Teacher." 

The  teacher  must  have  belief,  sincerity,  enthusiasm.     His  per- 
sonality, more  than  his  learning,  counts. 

O'SHEA,  M.  V.    Social  Development  and  Education,  pp.  295-302. 

PALMER,  G.  N.  "The  ideal  teacher,"  in  The  Teacher.  A  stimulat- 
ing analysis  of  certain  traits  of  a  good  teacher  —  an  aptitude  for 
vicariousness,  accumulated  worldly  means,  an  ability  to  in- 
vigorate life,  a  readiness  to  be  forgotten. 

Life  of  Alice  Freeman  Palmer,  especially  Chapters  V-VIII,  XV. 

An  inspiring  account  of  the  personal  qualities  and  methods  of 
work  which  made  this  woman  such  a  great  teacher. 

Ross,  E.  A.  Social  Control,  Chapter  XXI,  "Personality,"  pp.  275- 
290.  Brief  characterization  of  great  leaders.  The  elements 
of  natural  and  acquired  prestige. 

TERMAN,  L.  H.  "The  psychology  and  pedagogy  of  leadership," 
Ped.  S.,  11:413-451.  Leadership  among  animals;  the  bully, 
the  child  leader,  variations  according  to  age,  etc. 

TOLSTOY,  COUNT  LEO.  War  and  Peace,  Vol.  IV.  Contains  a  fine 
statement  of  the  relation  of  the  individual  to  the  great  move- 
ments of  history. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

THE   SOCIAL   ASPECTS   OF   MENTAL   DEVELOPMENT 

Introductory  Statement 

THUS  far  in  Part  II  we  have  devoted  our  attention  to  the  general 
nature  of  corporate  life  and  its  relation  to  the  work  of  the  school.  We 
now  turn  to  the  study  of  certain  facts  and  principles  which  may  prop- 
erly be  viewed  in  relation  to,  or  even  as  applications  of,  what  has  gone 
before.  The  general  problem  is  that  of  the  influence  of  the  social 
group  upon  the  character  of  the  individual  member  of  the  group.  This 
is  a  large  problem  with  many  aspects.  The  phase  of  it  which  is  of 
most  interest  to  us  in  this  study  is  that  which  relates  to  the  social 
conditions  of  the  learning  process,  particularly  as  that  process  goes  on 
in  the  school,  and  to  the  social  conditions  underlying  the  development 
of  moral  character.  As  a  basis  for  the  proper  understanding  of  these 
matters,  we  will  first  study  the  social  influences  involved  in  the  mental 
growth  of  the  child  and  the  final  social  character  of  personality. 

Two  important  discussions  are  here  reproduced  as  a  basis  for  study 
of  this  subject.  In  the  one  by  Royce  is  a  suggestive  account  of  the 
way  in  which  social  forces  begin  to  play  upon  the  infant  almost  from 
the  moment  of  birth  and  continue  throughout  life.  But  not  merely 
are  our  intellectual  processes  developed  and  refined  by  social  contact, 
the  very  personality,  the  sum  of  all  these  intellectual  and  emotional 
activities,  receives  clearer  and  clearer  delimitation  through  our  con- 
tact with  other  selves.  Growth  in  individuality  may  be  considered 
as  the  outcome  of  ten  thousand  subtle  imitations  and  contrasts  set 
up  between  ourselves  and  others.  This  social  basis  of  personality 
is  discussed  in  the  extracts  from  Cooley. 

It  is  of  some  importance  to  have  in  mind  in  the  very  beginning  of 
this  aspect  of  our  study  the  problem  of  the  ultimate  relation  of  the 

325 


326  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

individual  to  the  social  group.  There  are  some  thinkers  who  assume 
a  complete  subordination  of  personality  to  society.  Both  logically 
and  historically,  however,  the  two  are  coordinate;  the  individual  is  a 
center  of  energy,  a  creator  of  purposes.  As  he  strikes  out,  he  inevi- 
tably influences  the  lives  and  purposes  of  other  people,  and  in  turn  has 
his  own  purposes  modified.  But  even  to  start  with,  his  purposes  can- 
not be  considered  as  antisocial.  He  may,  it  is  true,  react  against 
the  society  in  which  he  lives,  but  his  acts  are  not  thereby  any  the  less 
the  social  acts.  His  very  individuality  gains  its  uniqueness  and  its 
force  through  the  contrast  set  up  by  his  reaction  upon  or  against  his 
fellows.  In  the  study  before  us  we  shall  attempt  to  determine  the 
nature  and  consequences  of  these  human  interrelations,  especially  in 
the  field  of  individual  growth  and  education.  That  we  shall  dwell 
upon  this  aspect  should  not  be  taken  to  indicate  a  failure  to  appreciate 
the  meaning  or  reality  of  individuality.  It  is  the  specific  function  of 
another  science,  psychology,  to  deal  with  that  phase.  In  all  the  fol- 
lowing discussions  of  social  influences  we  shall  assume  that  a  high 
social  development  is  attainable  only  as  it  is  correlated  with  a  high 
degree  of  individual  development,  that  individuality  is  a  real  and 
primary  fact,  but  that  it  is  none  the  less  a  social  fact,  the  very  defini- 
tion of  individuality,  depending  as  it  does  upon  the  presence  and  influ- 
ence of  others.  As  iron  sharpeneth  iron,  so  the  countenance  of  a  man 
sharpeneth  that  of  his  friend;  that  is,  not  merely  a  man's  countenance, 
but  his  whole  personality,  are  thrown  into  clearer  relief  because  of 
his  intimate  association  with  others. 

The  Social  Aspect  of  the  Higher  Forms  of  Docility 

Man's  response  to  his  environment  is  not  merely  a  reaction  to  things, 
but  is,  and  in  fact  predominantly  is,  a  reaction  to  persons.  There  is 
not  opportunity,  in  the  present  connection,  to  trace  with  any  detail 
the  rise  and  growth  of  our  consciousness  of  the  human  personalities 
with  whom  we  are  accustomed  to  deal.  The  laws  of  habit  and  of 
association  are  unquestionably  of  importance  as  throwing  light  upon 
the  way  in  which  we  come  to  regard  certain  objects  in  our  environment 
not  merely  as  physical  things  possessing  size,  movement,  etc.,  but  as 
objects  endowed  with  an  experience  like  our  own,  and  possessing  a 
consciousness  that,  inaccessible  as  it  may  be  to  us,  is  still,  in  so  far  as 
we  get  its  expressions,  essentially  intelligible  and  profoundly  interest- 


THE  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  MENTAL  DEVELOPMENT    327 

ing  to  us.  It  is  necessary  in  the  present  connection,  without  under- 
taking in  the  least  the  task  of  a  specific  social  psychology,  to  give  some 
indication  of  the  way  in  which  all  our  higher  intellectual  and  voluntary 
habits  are  ajfectelTby  this  our  conscious  interpretation  of  the  inner  life 
of  our  fellows. 

The  foundation  for  our  whole  social  consciousness  seems  to  lie  in 
certain  instincts  which  characterize  us  as  social  beings,  and  which 
begin  to  assume  considerable  prominence  toward  the  end  of  the  first 
year  of  an  infant's  life.  These  instincts  express  themselves  first  in 
reactions  of  general  interest  in  the  faces,  in  the  presence  and  in  the 
doings  of  our  social  fellow  beings.  Among  these  reactions  some  show 
great  pleasure  and  fascination.  Some,  the  reactions  of  bashfulness, 
show  fear.  This  fear  is  an  instinctive  character,  and  in  some  cases 
may  display  itself  in  reactions  of  violent  terror  in  the  presence  of 
strangers.  But  on  the  whole,  more  prominent,  in  the  life  of  a  nor- 
mally tended  infant,  is  pleasurable  reaction  at  the  sight  of  people.  It 
is  unquestionable  that,  from  the  very  first,  these  instincts  are  subject 
to  the  regular  processes  that  everywhere  determine  our  docility.  Our 
social  environment  is  a  constant  source  of  numerous  sensory  pleasures, 
and  by  association  becomes  interesting  to  us  accordingly.  But,  in 
addition  to  the  pleasures  of  sense,  which  are  due  to  our  human  com- 
panions, there  are,  no  doubt,  from  the  first,  deep  instinctive  and  heredi- 
tary sources  of  interest  in  the  activities  of  human  beings.  On  the 
basis  of  the  general  social  interests,  there  appear  more  special  instincts, 
amongst  which  the  most  prominent  is  the  complex  of  instincts  suggested 
by  the  name  imitation.  It  is  by  imitation  that  the  child  learns  its 
language.  It  is  by  imitation"  that  it  acquired  all  the  social  tendencies 
that  make  it  a  tolerable  member  of  society.  Its  imitativeness  is  the 
source  of  an  eager  and  restless  activity  which  the  child  pursues  for 
years  under  circumstances  of  great  difficulty,  and  even  when  the 
processes  involved  seem  to  be  more  painful  than  pleasurable.  Imi- 
tativeness remains  with  us  through  life.  It  attracts  less  of  our  con- 
scious attention  in  our  adult  years,  but  is  present  in  ways  that  the 
psychologist  is  able  to  observe  even  in  case  of  people  who  suppose  them- 
selves not  to  be  imitative. 

This  human  imitativeness  assumes  very  notable  forms  in  excited 
crowds  of  people,  in  what  the  recent  psychologists  have  called  in  gen- 
'eral  "  the  mob."  A  mob,  in  the  technical  sense,  is  any  company  of 
persons  whose  present  set  of  brain  involves  the  abandonment  of  such 
habits  as  have  most  determined  their  customary  individual  choices, 
and  the  assumption,  for  the  moment,  merely  of  certain  generalized 
modes  of  reaction  which  are  of  an  emotional,  a  socially  plastic  and  a 
decidedly  imitative  type.  Under  the  influence  of  such  social  condi- 
tions, the  members  of  the  mob  may  perform  acts  of  the  type  before 


328  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

referred  to,  acts  which  seem  to  the  casual  observer  quite  out  of  charac- 
ter in  view  of  the  training  and  of  the  ordinary  opinions  of  the  people 
concerned.  Outside  of  the  mob,  the  imitative  reactions  appear  in  all 
the  phenomena  of  fashion  and  of  transitory  custom,  such  as  any 
popular  craze  of  the  day,  or  the  success  of  any  favorite  song,  opera  or 
novel,  may  daily  illustrate.  The  most  of  people's  political  opinions, 
the  most  of  their  religious  creeds,  the  most  of  their  social  judgments, 
are  very  highly  imitative  in  their  origin. 

Side  by  side  with  the  social  processes  of  the  imitative  type  appear 
another  group  of  reactions  practically  inseparable  from  the  former, 
but  in  character  decidedly  contrasted  with  them.  These  are  the 
phenomena  of  social  opposition  and  of  the  love  for  contrasting  one's 
self  with  onejs  fellows  in  behavior,  in  opinion  or  in  power.  These 
phenomena  of  social  contrast  and  opposition  have  an  unquestionably 
instinctive  basis.  They  appear  very  early  in  childhood.  They  last 
in  most  people  throughout  life.  They  may  take  extremely  hostile 
and  formidable  shapes.  In  their  normal  expression  they  constitute 
one  of  the  most  valuable  features  of  any  healthy  social  activity.  This 
fact  may  be  illustrated  by  any  lively  conversation  or  discussion. 

As  a  rule,  the  acts  that  express  this  fondness  for  social  contrast,  and 
for  opposing  one's  self  to  the  social  environment,  are,  in  their  origin, 
secondary  to  the  imitative  acts.  It  is  true  that  the  instinctive  basis 
for  them  appears  quite  as  early  as  do  the  manifestations  of  the  imitative 
instincts.  And  since  this  fondness  for  opposition  is  in  part  based  upon 
the  elemental  emotions  of  the  type  expressed  in  anger,  obstinacy  and 
unwillingness  to  be  interfered  with,  the  instinctive  basis  for  the  type  of 
action  here  in  question  may  be  said  to  be  manifest  even  earlier  in  in- 
fancy than  is  the  case  with  the  imitative  reactions.  But  while  the 
instinctive  basis  of  opposition  is  primitive,  the  social  acts  that  can 
express  such  instincts  must  be  acquired.  And  in  order  to  contrast 
one's  self  with  one's  social  environment,  it  is  necessary,  in  general,  first 
to  learn  how  to  do  something  that  has  social  significance.  I  cannot 
oppose  you  by  my  speech  unless  I  already  know  how  to  talk.  I  cannot 
rival  you  as  a  musician  unless  I  already  understand  music.  I  can- 
not endeavor  to  get  the  better  of  a  political  rival  unless  I  already  under- 
stand politics.  But  speech  and  music  and  politics  have  to  be  learned 
by  imitation.  Hence,  the  social  reactions  which  express  the  fondness 
for  contrast  and  opposition  must  on  the  whole  follow  in  their  develop- 
ment the  social  reactions  dependent  upon  imitation.  This  accounts 
for  that  close  weaving  together  of  the  two  types  of  functions,  of  which 
we  have  already  spoken.  The  playful  child  already  seizes  whatever 
little  arts  he  has  acquired  by  imitation  to  express  his  willfulness,  or  to 
develop  his  own  devices,  or  to  display  himself  to  his  environment. 
And,  on  the  other  hand,  a  form  of  willfulness,  or  of  obstinacy,  in  an 


THE  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  MENTAL  DEVELOPMENT    329 

already  highly  intelligent  being,  may  lead  to  a  deliberately  painstaking 
process  of  imitation,  such  as  happens  whenever  an  ambitious  artist 
devotes  himself  long  to  training  in  order  that  thereby  he  may  get  the 
better  of  his  rivals.  In  brief,  the  preservation  of  a  happy  balance 
between  the  imitative  functions  and  those  that  emphasize"  social 
contrasts  and  oppositions  forms  the  basis  for  every  higher  type  of 
mental  activity.  And  the  entire  process  of  conscious  education  involves 
the  deliberate  appeal  to  the  docility  of  these  two  types  of  social  instincts. 
For  whatever  else  we  teach  to  a  social  being,  we  teach  him  to  imitate. 
And  whatever  use  we  teach  him  to  make  of  his  social  imitations  in  his 
relations  with  other  men,  we  are  obliged  at  the  same  time  to  teach  him 
to  assert  himself,  in  some  sort  of  way,  in  contrast  with  his  fellows,  and 
by  virtue  of  the  arts  which  he  possesses. 

The  full  consideration  of  the  social  value  of  imitativeness  and  of  the 
love  of  social  contrast  and  opposition  would  carry  us  wholly  beyond  our 
present  limits.  What  we  are  concerned  to  notice,  in  this  elementary 
study  of  psychology,  is  that  the  nature  of  these  functions  profoundly 
affects  the  structure  and  the  development  of  the  processes  known  as  thought 
and  reasoning.  We  are  also  concerned  merely  to  mention  a  fact  into 
whose  adequate  consideration  we  cannot  hope  to  enter;  the  fact, 
namely,  that  all  the  functions  which  constitute  self-consciousness  show 
themselves  outwardly  in  social  reactions,  that  is,  in  dealings  with  other 
real  or  ideal  personages,  and  are,  in  our  own  minds,  profoundly  related 
to,  and  inseparable  from,  our  social  consciousness. 

To  specify  more  exactly  the  matters  to  which  reference  has  thus  been 
made :  what  is  called  thought  consists  (as  has  already  been  pointed  out) 
of  a  series  of  mental  processes  that  unquestionably  tend  to  express  them- 
selves in  characteristic  motor  reactions.  Many  of  these  reactions  noto- 
riously take  the  form  of  using,  or  applying,  and  of  combining  words. 
Now  the  reasons  why  our  thinking  process  should  so  largely  depend 
upon  using  words  have  often  been  discussed  by  psychologists,  but  at 
first  sight  they  may  appear  to  the  elementary  student  of  psychology 
somewhat  puzzling.  The  general  solution  of  the  problem  lies  in  the 
fact  that  words  are  the  expressions  of  certain  reactions  that  we  have 
acquired  when  we  were  in  social  relations  to  our  fellows.  If  we  once 
understand  how  these  social  relations  determine  that  character  of  our 
consciousness  which  essentially  belongs  to  all  thinking,  we  become  able 
to  see  why  verbal  associations  and  habits  should  be  so  prominent  in 
connection  with  all  the  thinking  processes.  We  shall  also  be  able  to 
see  what  is  frequently  neglected  by  psychologists;  namely,  the  possi- 
bility that  processes  of  thought  should  on  occasion  appear  dissociated 
from  verbal  expression,  although  never  dissociated  from  tendencies  to 
action  which  have  a  social  origin  essentially  similar  to  that  of  language. 

Our  words  are  first  learned  as  part  of  our  social  intercourse  with  our 


330  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

fellows.  As  recent  students  of  the  psychology  of  the  language  of 
childhood  have  pointed  out,  words  cannot  be  said  at  the  outset  to 
express  to  a  child  any  exact  abstract  ideas.  They  are  at  first,  as  Wundt 
and  his  school  have  well  insisted,  rather  the  expressions  of  feelings 
than  the  embodiments  of  thought.  The  whole  vocal  life  of  infancy  is 
primarily  an  expression  of  feeling.  In  social  relationships  it  later 
becomes  to  a  child  associated  with  his  socially  fascinating  feelings, 
with  the  sense  of  companionship,  with  his  joy  in  the  power  to  make 
sounds  which  others  admire,  and  to  imitate  sounds  which  he  hears 
others  make.  But  now,  in  time,  these  expressions  of  the  child's 
feelings  become  associated  not  only  with  social  situations  and  delights, 
but  with  objects  and  deeds  observed.  The  social  utility  of  taking 
advantage  of  these  associations  is  emphasized,  in  the  child's  training, 
by  the  behavior,  and  by  the  deliberate  efforts  at  instruction  in  lan- 
guage, which  he  meets  with  in  his  elders.  At  length  a  stage  comes 
when  language  is  the  expression  of  the  child's  wish,  at  once  to  charac- 
terize objects  present  in  his  experience,  and  to  appeal  intelligibly  to 
the  minds  of  his  fellows.  Now  these  two  aspects  of  the  language  pro- 
cesses are  never  to  be  separated  from  one  another,  either  in  the  life  of 
childhood  or  in  our  much  later  rational  development.  A  word,  a 
phrase,  a  discourse,  is  always  at  once  a  response  to  certain  facts  in  the 
outer  or  inner  world  which  we  attempt  to  characterize,  and  an  appeal 
to  the  consciousness  of  our  fellow.  It  is  the  latter  aspect  which  gives 
language  its  primary  practical  importance.  Language  is  not  a  direct 
adjustment  to  the  facts  apart  from  the  purpose  of  communication.  It 
is  the  purpose  of  communication  that  alone  makes  language  essentially 
significant  as  a  part  of  our  mental  equipment.  But  in  view  of  this 
fact  it  is  obvious  that  language  acquires  its  value  as  a  means  of  charac- 
terizing facts  through  processes  which  appear,  in  the  mind  of  one  who 
learns  language,  in  the  form  of  a  long-continued,  a  laborious,  and  gener- 
ally a  fascinating  process  of  comparing  his  own  way  of  using  words  with 
the  ways  employed  by  other  people.  From  the  time  when  a  child  plays  at 
imitating  his  nurse's  words,  or  at  hearing  his  own  babble  imitated,  to 
the  time  when,  perhaps,  as  a  lawyer,  he  adjusts  his  arguments  to  the 
requirements  of  judges  and  juries,  and  to  the  criticisms  of  an  opponent, 
he  constantly  adjusts  his  reactions,  as  he  speaks,  to  the  reactions  of 
other  people,  by  comparing  his  own  way  of  behavior  with  the  behav- 
ior of  others.  Such  comparison  involves  inevitably  both  of  the  two 
great  social  motives  before  emphasized.  That  is,  it  involves  both  the 
motives  of  imitation,  pure  and  simple,  and  that  love  of  social  contrast 
which  has  before  been  emphasized. 

But  now  what  is  the  inevitable  result  of  all  such  activities  ?  It  is 
that  the  one  who  makes  such  social  comparison  becomes  very  highly 
conscious  of  the  details  of  his  own  acts,  and  of  the  criticisms  that  other 


THE  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  MENTAL  DEVELOPMENT    331 

people  are  making  upon  these  acts,  and  of  the  feelings  which  these  acts 
arouse  both  in  himself  and  in  others.  But  now  it  is  at  the  same  time 
the  case  that  the  acts  of  which  one  becomes  conscious  are  also  acts 
which  one  is  also  seeking  to  adjust  to  objects  as  well  as  to  social  judg- 
ments. The  result  of  this  twofold  adjustment  is  precisely  the  kind  of 
consciousness  which  constitutes  thinking.  For  thinking  differs  from 
naive  action  chiefly  in  this :  When  we  act  in  naive  fashion,  we  are  espe- 
cially conscious  of  the  objects  to  which  we  adjust  ourselves,  and  of  the 
feelings  of  success  or  of  failure,  that  is,  of  satisfaction  or  of  restlessness, 
of  pleasure  or  of  pain,  that  accompany  these  acts.  Of  the  details  of 
our  acts  we  are  not  in  such  cases  conscious,  although  our  consciousness 
of  our  objects  is  unquestionably  dependent  upon  the  performance  of 
our  acts.  Thus,  one  who  seeks  food  is  very  imperfectly  aware  of  how 
he  moves  his  legs  or  his  arms  in  walking  or  in  grasping ;  but  he  is  aware 
of  his  images  of  the  food,  and  of  his  relatively  satisfactory  or  unsatis- 
factory efforts  to  obtain  it.  The  reason  why  the  details  of  our  acts 
do  not  come  in  such  cases  clearly  to  consciousness  is  dependent  upon 
the  fact  that  our  sensory  experiences  of  the  objects  in  question  are 
prominent,  while  our  sensory  experiences  of  our  acts,  just  in  so  far  as 
the  acts  have  become  habitual,  tend  to  be  too  swift  for  consciousness 
to  follow ;  while  only  our  feelings  remain,  amongst  our  internal  expe- 
riences, as  the  prominent  accompaniments  of  the  act.  But,  on  the 
other  hand,  one  who  thinks  makes  it  part  of  his  ideal  to  be  conscious  of 
how  he  behaves  in  the  presence  of  things.  And  this  he  does  because  the 
social  comparison  of  his  acts  with  the  acts  of  other  people  not  only 
controls  the  formation  of  his  acts,  but  has  made  his  observation  of  his 
own  acts  an  ideal.  For  so  far  as  he  is  imitating  others,  he  is  fascinated 
by  the  adjustment  of  his  behavior  to  the  behavior  of  others.  So  far 
as  he  is  dwelling  upon  social  conflicts  and  contrasts,  he  is  displaying  his 
own  acts  to  the  other  people ;  and  so  he  is  conscious  that  they  are  ob- 
serving him,  and  is  desirous  that  they  should  do  so.  In  consequence, 
the  social  conditions,  under  which  language  is  acquired,  produce  the  think- 
ing process,  just  because  it  is  of  the  essence  of  the  thinking  process  that 
we  should  become  aware  of  how  our  acts  are  adjusted  to  our  objects. 

The  acts  in  which  we  express  our  thinking  are  not,  however,  exclu- 
sively confined  to  the  process  of  using  words  or  of  combining  them. 
The  drawing  of  a  scientific  diagram,  the  construction  of  a  work  of  art, 
the  performance  of  an  experiment,  the  adjustment  of  the  playing  of 
one's  musical  instrument  to  the  criticisms  of  one's  musical  rival,  or  to 
the  guidance  of  the  conductor  of  an  orchestra,  —  all  these  are  activities 
which  involve  thinking  processes.  They  do  so  because  they  are  social 
adjustments  of  the  type  now  in  question ;  that  is,  social  adjustments, 
involving  imitations  and  social  contrasts,  and  including  the  consciousness 
of  how  one  performs  the  act,  and  so  of  how  it  is  adjusted  to  the  ideal. 


332  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

Such,  then,  is  the  general  character  of  thought;  namely,  that  it  is 
our  consciousness  of  an  act  or  of  a  series  of  acts  adjusted  to  an  object, 
in  such  wise  as  fittingly  to  represent  that  object,  or  to  portray  it,  or  to 
characterize  it,  and  in  such  wise  that  the  one  who  thinks  is  conscious  of  the 
nature  of  his  act.  Hence  it  will  follow  that  all  the  special  processes  of 
thinking,  such  as  those  usually  discriminated  as  conception,  judgment 
and  reasoning,  exemplify  this  general  character  of  the  thinking  process, 
and  result  from  the  effects  of  social  stimulations.  The  process  of  con- 
trasting my  own  acts  with  my  fellow's  acts,  and  in  consequence  of  con- 
trasting my  own  views  with  what  I  regard  as  the  ideas  of  my  fellow, 
this  is  the  process  which  is  responsible  for  that  kind  of  consciousness 
which  appears  in  all  of  our  thoughtful  activities. 

Let  us  exemplify  these  considerations  by  a  few  words  about  each  of 
the  thinking  processes  which  have  just  been  mentioned.  The  process 
called  Conception,  or  the  formation  of  Abstract  General  Ideas,  is 
rightly  regarded  as  essential  to  the  thinking  process.  General  ideas 
are  the  ideas  which  we  associate  with  those  words  that  have  an  appli- 
cation to  any  one  of  many  individual  cases  or  situations.  The  word 
"  man  "  or  "  horse  "  is  a  word  of  general  application.  The  knowledge 
of  what  this  word  means  involves  a  possession  of  a  general  idea  of 
men  or  horses.  Now  of  what  mental  material  does  such  an  idea  con- 
sist ?  When  it  is  a  lively,  or  a  highly  conscious,  idea,  it  unquestionably 
involves,  in  all  cases,  and  in  one  aspect,  some  kind  of  mental  imagery. 
This  imagery  may,  in  ^visualizing  people,  take  predominantly  the  form 
of  mental  pictures  of  representative  men  or  of  representative  horses. 
It  may  in  some  minds  take  the  form  of  vague  mental  pictures  corre- 
sponding to  what  one  might  call  "  composite  photographs,"  such  as  the 
mind  would  seem  to  have  formed  from  retaining  in  imagination  the 
characters  common  to  many  individual  horses  or  men,  while  forgetting 
the  characters  wherein  various  individuals  differ  from  one  another. 
But  it  is,  nevertheless,  possible  for  one  who  is  not  a  visualizer  to  have  as 
clear  an  idea  of  what  he  means  by  "  man  "  or  "  horse  "  as  the  visualiz- 
ing man  possesses.  And  our  more  developed  abstract  ideas,  such  as 
mathematical  abstractions,  or  such  as  our  conception  of  justice,  involve 
mental  processes  to  whose  portrayal  visual  imagery  is  extremely  inade- 
quate. One  comes  nearer  to  dwelling  upon  the  essential  characteris- 
tics which  the  abstract  ideas  of  a  horse  or  of  a  man  must  possess  when 
one  observes  that  whoever  knows  what  a  horse  or  man  in  general  is,  knows 
of  some  kind  of  act  which  it  is  fitting  to  perform  in  the  presence  of  any  object 
of  the  class  in  question. 

The  fact  that  too  many  psychological  accounts  of  the  nature  of 
general  ideas  have  resulted  from  confining  psychological  attention  to 
the  fragmentary  images  which  may  appear  at  any  stage  of  the  develop- 
ment or  expression  in  consciousness  of  a  general  idea,  instead  of  con- 


THE  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  MENTAL  DEVELOPMENT    333 

sidering  the  total  mental  process  which  is  needed  in  order  to  portray 
with  relative  completeness  any  general  idea  whatever,  is  responsible 
for  the  result  that  the  traditional  account  of  general  ideas  has  usually 
missed  this,  their  relation  to  our  conduct.  But  if  this  relation  exists, 
if  every  complete  general  idea  is  a  conscious  plan  of  action,  fitted  for  the 
characterization  and  portrayal  of  the  nature  of  that  of  which  we  have  a 
general  idea,  the  psychological  question  regarding  the  genesis  of  general 
ideas  is  simply  the  question  as  to  how  we  could  become  clearly  conscious  of 
such  plans  of  action.  For,  as  we  pointed  out  above,  we  are  not  usually 
clearly  conscious  of  precisely  those  acts  which  have  become  most 
habitual,  unless  special  conditions  call  our  attention  to  their  constitu- 
tion. 

Our  answer  to  the  question  thus  raised  has  already  been  stated. 
The  fact  that  all  our  general  ideas  have  been  formed  under  social 
conditions,  and  that  the  ways  in  which  we  describe,  portray  and 
characterize  things  have  been  throughout  determined  by  motives  of 
communication,  by  a  disposition  to  imitate  the  behavior  of  our  fel- 
lows, and  by  a  disposition  to  compare  our  own  mental  attitudes  with 
theirs,  this  fact  sufficiently  explains  why  the  social  contrasts  and  com- 
parisons in  question  have  tended  to  make  us  and  keep  us  conscious  not 
only  of  our  own  objects,  but  of  our  own  modes  of  rational  behavior  in 
their  presence. 

Meanwhile,  the  essentially  imitative  character  of  all  complex  general 
ideas  appears  in  all  our  most  thoughtful  processes;  namely,  in  our  more 
elaborate  scientific  general  ideas.  Such  general  ideas  are  best  expressed 
by  drawing  diagrams,  or  by  going  through  the  processes  of  a  scientific 
experiment,  or  by  writing  formulas  on  a  blackboard,  or,  finally,  by 
describing  objects  in  well-ordered  series  of  descriptive  words.  From 
this  point  of  view  one  might  declare  that  all  our  higher  conceptions, 
just  in  proportion  as  they  are  thoughtful  and  definite,  involve  conscious 
imitations  of  things.  And  these  conceptions  are  general,  merely  be- 
cause the  fashion  of  imitation  that  we  employ  in  the  presence  of  one  object 
will  regularly  be  applicable  to  a  great  number  of  objects. 

Our  numerical  ideas  illustrate  this  principle  very  well.  They  are 
more  or  less  abbreviated  expressions  of  the  motor  activity  of  counting, 
and  of  the  results  of  this  activity.  The  geometrical  conception  of  a 
circle  as  a  curve  that  can  be  constructed  by  fixing  one  end  of  a  straight 
line,  by  leaving  the  other  free,  and  by  allowing  this  end  to  rotate  in  a 
plane,  is  another  instance  of  a  conception  that  is  identical  with  our 
memory  of  a  certain  mode  of  portrayal  by  which  a  circle  can  be  recon- 
structed. In  brief,  we  have  exact  conceptions  of  things  in  so  far  as  we 
know  how  the  things  are  made,  or  how  they  can  be  imitatively  reconstructed 
through  our  portrayals.  Where  our  power  to  imitate  ceases,  our  power 
definitely  to  conceive  ceases  also.  All  science  is  thus  an  effort  to  de- 


334  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

scribe  facts,  to  set  over  against  the  real  world  an  imitation  of  it.  Hence 
the  vanity  of  endeavoring  to  describe  the  process  of  conception  merely 
in  terms  of  images,  without  remembering  that  mental  imagery,  when 
definite,  is  always  related  to  our  action.  But  it  is  our  social  life  that 
has  made  us  conscious  of  our  actions,  and  that  has  thus  taught  us  how  to 
form  abstract  ideas. 

The  mental  process  called  Judgment  is  the  second  essential  aspect  of 
the  thinking  process.  While  judgment  involves  many  other  aspects, 
its  essential  feature  lies  in  the  fact  that,  when  we  judge,  we  accept  or 
reject  a  given  proposed  portrayal  of  objects  as  adequate,  or  as  fitting  for 
its  own  purpose.  The  general  conception,  as  we  have  just  seen,  is  a 
portrayal  which  one  may  compare  to  a  photograph  of  a  man.  The  act 
of  judgment  is  comparable  to  the  act  whereby  one  to  whom  the  photog- 
rapher sends  the  proofs  of  a  photograph  accepts  or  rejects  the  photo- 
graph as  a  worthy  representation  of  the  object  in  question.  But  our 
consciousness  regarding  the  acceptance  or  rejection  of  proposed  por- 
trayals of  objects  has  become  critical,  has  come  to  involve  a  sharp  dis- 
tinction between  truth  and  error,  because  we  have  so  often  compared  our 
judgments  with  those  of  our  fellows,  and  have  so  often  criticized,  accepted, 
or  rejected  their  expressions,  their  attitudes  toward  things.  Here 
again  the  conditions  upon  which  the  social  consciousness  depends  have 
proved  necessary  to  the  formation  of  our  thought. 

The  process  of  reasoning,  the  third  aspect  of  the  thinking  process,  is 
in  general  the  process  of  considering  the  results  of  proposed  conceptions 
and  judgments. 

As  reasoning  involves  a  constantly  more  and  more  elaborate  con- 
sciousness of  the  nature  and  results  of  our  own  action,  so  again  we  see, 
from  the  whole  history  of  the  development  of  the  reason  amongst  men, 
that  reasoning  is  a  consequence  of  social  situations,  and  especially  of  the 
process  of  comparing  various  opinions  and  connections  of  opinion,  as 
these  have  grown  up  amongst  men.  The  whole  method  of  the  reasoning 
process  has  come  to  the  consciousness  of  men  as  the  result  of  disputa- 
tion ;  that  is,  of  processes  whereby  men  have  compared  together  their 
various  ways  of  portraying  things,  and  of  taking  accounts  of  the 
results  of  their  own  actions.  Nobody  learns  to  reason  except  after  other 
people  have  pointed  out  to  him  how  they  view  his  attempts  to  give  his  own 
acts  of  thought  connection,  and  to  proceed  from  one  act  to  another.  Like 
the  thinking  process  in  general,  the  reasoning  process  develops  out  of 
conditions  which  at  the  outset  involve  a  very  rich,  and  in  fact  predomi- 
nant, presence  of  feelings  and  of  complex  emotions.  That  is,  reasonings 
have  resulted  from  what  were  at  first  decidedly  passionate  contrasts 
of  opinion;  and  the  dispassionate  reason  has  grown  up  upon  the  basis 
of  decidedly  emotional  efforts  of  men  to  persuade  other  men  to  assume 
their  own  fashions  of  conduct,  and  their  own  self-conscious  view  of  how 


THE   SOCIAL  ASPECTS   OF   MENTAL  DEVELOPMENT    335 

their  various  acts  were  connected  together.  If  the  process  of  concep- 
tion is  the  formation  of  a  plan  of  conduct,  the  process  of  reasoning 
results  from  trying  so  to  portray  this  plan  as  to  persuade  other  men  to 
assume  it.  Persuasion  and  controversy,  upon  earlier  stages  of  mental 
development,  are  always  associated  with  passionate  vehemence.  The 
ineffectiveness  of  mere  passion  to  attain  its  own  social  ends,  the  growth 
of  ingenuity  in  the  process  of  persuasion,  and  the  gradual  elaboration  of 
social  habits,  formed  through  the  successful  bringing  of  men  to  agree- 
ments, —  such  are  the  motives  upon  which  the  development  of  the 
reasoning  process  has  depended. 

It  remains  here  very  briefly  to  characterize  the  highest  and  most  com- 
plex of  all  the  intellectual  processes ;  namely,  that  one  which  has  to  do 
with  what  is  called  our  "Self -consciousness "  in  general,  that  is,  the 
consciousness  which  the  Ego,  the  Self,  possesses  of  its  own  life  activities 
and  plans.  The  Self  of  any  man  comes  to  consciousness  only  in  contrast 
with  other  selves.  There  is  no  reason  why  one  should  be  aware  of  his 
whole  plan  of  life,  or  of  his  personal  character,  or  of  the  general  con- 
nections amongst  his  various  habits,  or  of  the  value  of  his  own  life, 
or  of  any  of  the  features  and  attributes  which  our  present  conscious- 
ness ascribes  to  the  Self,  unless  he  has  had  occasion  to  compare  his 
behavior,  his  feelings,  and  his  ideals  with  those  of  other  men.  It  is 
true  that  when  developed,  this  Self  includes  amongst  its  possessions  all 
the  states  of  consciousness  that  make  up  the  inner  life  of  which  we 
spoke  in  our  opening  paragraphs,  that  inner  life  which  we  conceived 
as  in  some  sense  inaccessible  to,  and  sundered  from,  the  inner  life  of 
anybody  else.  But  there  is  no  reason  why  these  states  of  consciousness 
should  form,  from  our  point  of  view,  a  world  by  themselves,  unless  we 
had  some  world  of  other  facts  to  compare  and  contrast  them  with. 
And  the  whole  evidence  of  our  social  consciousness  is  to  the  effect  that 
it  is  by  virtue  of  our  ideas  of  other  people,  and  of  their  minds  and 
conscious  states,  that  we  have  come  to  form  the  conception  of  our  own 
inner  life  as,  in  its  wholeness,  distinct  from  theirs. 

The  conception  of  the  so-called  Empirical  Self,  that  is,  of  the  Self  of 
our  ordinary  experience,  is  one  which  we  find  to  be  especially  centered 
about  certain  of  our  most  important  organic  sensations,  and  also  centered 
about  those  feelings  of  pleasure,  pain,  restlessness  and  quiescence, 
which  are  most  persistent  and  prominent  in  our  lives.  But  the  mere 
possession  of  these  organic  sensations  and  feelings  is  not  sufficient  to 
explain  why  we  regard  them  as  peculiarly  belonging  to  the  Self.  It  is 
only  when  we  see  the  importance  that  our  social  life  without  fellows 
has  given  to  these  organic  sensations  that  we  recognize  how  we  first 
have  come  to  contrast  our  own  experience  with  what  we  for  various 
reasons  conceive  to  be  the  inner  experiences  of  other  people,  and  then, 
by  virtue  of  the  prominence  which  our  social  contrasts  and  oppositions 


336  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

give  to  these  organic  sensations,  have  come  to  regard  them  as  especially 
the  immediate  expression  of  our  independence,  and  of  that  which  keeps 
us  apart  from  all  other  selves. 

That  the  Self  comes  to  consciousness  in  normal  cases  only  in  con- 
nection with  organized  plans  of  conduct,  is  obvious  from  what  has 
already  been  said.  Our  social  self-consciousness  leads  us  to  form  such 
plans,  and  to  compare  them  with  those  of  other  people.  Our  conscious- 
ness of  ourselves  as  personalities  is  therefore  simply  an  extreme  in- 
stance of  that  relation  between  social  consciousness  and  the  higher 
intellectual  development  which  we  have  already  set  forth  in  our  account 
of  the  general  nature  of  thought. 

Reprinted  from  J.  Royce,  Outlines  of  Psychology,  Chapter  XH. 

The  Social  Basis  of  Personality 

The  social  self  is  simply  any  idea,  or  system  of  ideas,  drawn  from 
the  communicative  life,  that  the  mind  cherishes  as  its  own.  Self- 
feeling  has  its  chief  scope  within  the  general  life,  not  outside  of  it,  the 
special  endeavor  or  tendency  of  which  it  is  the  emotional  aspect  find- 
ing its  principal  field  of  exercises  in  a  world  of  personal  forces,  re- 
flected in  the  mind  by  a  world  of  personal  impressions. 

As  connected  with  the  thought  of  other  persons  it  is  always  a  con- 
sciousness of  the  peculiar  or  differentiated  aspect  of  one's  life,  because 
that  is  the  aspect  that  has  to  be  sustained  by  purpose  and  endeavor, 
and  its  more  aggressive  forms  tend  to  attach  themselves  to  whatever 
one  finds  to  be  at  once  congenial  to  one's  own  tendencies  and  at 
variance  with  those  of  others  with  whom  one  is  in  mental  contact. 
It  is  here  that  they  are  most  needed  to  serve  their  function  of  stimu- 
lating characteristic  activity,  of  fostering  those  personal  variations 
which  the  general  plan  of  life  seems  to  require.  Heaven,  says  Shake- 
speare, doth  divide 

"  The  state  of  man  in  divers  functions, 
Setting  endeavor  in  continual  motion," 

and  self-feeling  is  one  of  the  means  by  which  this  diversity  is  achieved. 
Agreeably  to  this  view  we  find  that  the  aggressive  self  manifests 
itself  most  conspicuously  in  an  appropriativeness  of  objects  of  com- 
mon desire,  corresponding  to  the  individual's  need  of  power  over 
such  objects  to  secure  his  own  peculiar  development  and  to  the  dan- 
ger|of  opposition  from  others  who  also  need  them.  And  this  extends 
from  material  objects  to  lay  hold,  in  the  same  spirit,  of  the  attentions 
and  affections  of  other  people,  of  all  sorts  of  plans  and  ambitions, 
including  the  noblest  special  purposes  the  mind  can  entertain,  and 
indeed  of  any  conceivable  idea  which  may  come  to  seem  a  part  of 


; 


THE  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  MENTAL  DEVELOPMENT    337 

one's  life  and  in  need  of  assertion  against  some  one  else.  The  at- 
tempt to  limit  the  word  "self"  and  its  derivatives  to  the  lower  aims 
of  personality  is  quite  arbitrary;  at  variance  with  common  sense  as 
expressed  by  the  emphatic  use  of  "  I "  in  connection  with  the  sense 
of  duty  and  other  high  motives,  and  unphilosophical  as  ignoring  the 
function  of  the  self  as  the  organ  of  specialized  endeavor  of  higher 
as  well  as  lower  kinds. 

That  the  "  I "  of  common  speech  has  a  meaning  which  includes 
some  sort  of  reference  to  other  persons  is  involved  in  the  very  fact 
that  the  word  and  the  ideas  it  stands  for  are  phenomena  of  language 
and  the  communicative  life.  It  is  doubtful  whether  it  is  possible 
to  use  language  at  all  without  thinking  more  or  less  distinctly  of 
some  one  else,  and  certainly  the  things  to  which  we  give  names  and 
which  have  a  large  place  in  reflective  thought  are  almost  always  those 
which  are  impressed  upon  us  by  our  contact  with  other  people.  Where 
there  is  no  communication,  there  can  be  no  nomenclature  and  no 
developed  thought.  What  we  call  "  me,"  "  mine,"  or  "  myself  " 
Is,  then,  not  something  separate  from  the  general  life,  but  the  most 
interesting  part  of  it,  a  part  whose  interest  arises  from  the  very  fact 
that  it  is  both  general  and  individual.  That  is,  we  care  for  it  just  be- 
cause it  is  that  phase  of  the  mind  that  is  living  and  striving  in  the 
common  life,  trying  to  impress  itself  upon  the  minds  of  others.  "  I  " 
is  a  militant  social  tendency,  working  to  hold  and  enlarge  its  place 
in  the  general  current  of  tendencies.  So  far  as  it  can,  it  waxes,  as 
all  life  does.  To  think  of  it  as  apart  from  society  is  a  palpable  absur- 
dity of  which  no  one  could  be  guilty  who  really  saw  it  as  a  fact  of  life. 

"Der  Mensch  erkennt  sich  nur  im  Menschen,  nur 
Das  Leben  lehret  jedem  was  er  sei." l 

If  a  thing  has  no  relation  to  others  of  which  one  is  conscious,  he  is 
unlikely  to  think  of  it  at  all,  and  if  he  does  think  of  it  he  cannot,  it 
seems  to  me,  regard  it  as  emphatically  his.  The  appropriative  sense 
is  always  the  shadow,  as  it  were,  of  the  common  life,  and  when  we 
tiave  it,  we  have  a  sense  of  the  latter  in  connection  with  it.  Thus, 
if  we  think  of  a  secluded  part  of  the  woods  as  "ours,"  it  is  because  we 
think,  also,  that  others  do  not  go  there.  As  regards  the  body  I 
doubt  if  we  have  a  vivid  my-feeling  about  any  part  of  it  which  is 
aot  thought  of,  however  vaguely,  as  having  some  actual  or  possible 
preference  to  some  one  else.  Intense  self-consciousness  regarding  it 
arises  along  with  instincts  or  experiences  which  connect  it  with  the 
thought  of  others.  Internal  organs,  like  the  liver,  are  not  thought 
i  pf  as  peculiarly  ours  unless  we  are  trying  to  communicate  something 

iaOnly  in  man  does  man  know  himself;  life  alone  teaches  each  one  what  he  is."  — 
Goethe,  Tasso,  Act  2,  Scene  3. 


338  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

regarding  them,  as,  for  instance,  when  they  are  giving  us  trouble  and 
we  are  trying  to  get  sympathy. 

"  I,"  then,  is  not  all  of  the  mind,  but  a  peculiarly  central,  vigorous 
and  well-knit  portion  of  it,  not  separate  from  the  rest,  but  graduall) 
merging  into  it,  and  yet  having  a  certain  practical  distinctnes 
so  that  a  man  generally  shows  clearly  enough  by  his  language  anc 
behavior  what  his  "  I  "  is  as  distinguished  from  thoughts  he  dc 
not  appropriate.  It  may  be  thought  of,  as  already  suggested,  unde 
the  analogy  of  a  central  colored  area  on  a  lighted  wall.  It  might 
also,  and  perhaps  more  justly,  be  compared  to  the  nucleus  of  a  living 
cell,  not  altogether  separate  from  the  surrounding  matter,  out  of  whic 
indeed  it  is  formed,  but  more  active  and  definitely  organized. 

The  reference  to  other  persons  involved  in  the  sense  of  self  maj 
be  distinct  and  particular,  as  when  a  boy  is  ashamed  to  have  his  mothe 
catch  him  at  something  she  has  forbidden,  or  it  may  be  vague  and 
general,  as  when  one  is  ashamed  to  do  something  which  only  his  con- 
science, expressing  his  sense  of  social  responsibility,  detects  and  dis- 
approves ;  but  it  is  always  there.  There  is  no  sense  of  "I,"  as  in 
pride  or  shame,  without  its  correlative  sense  of  you,  or  he,  or  they. 
Even  the  miser  gloating  over  his  hidden  gold  can  feel  the  "  mine  " 
only  as  he  is  aware  of  the  world  of  men  over  whom  he  has  secret  power ; 
and  the  case  is  very  similar  with  all  kinds  of  hidden  treasure.  Many 
painters,  sculptors,  and  writers  have  loved  to  withhold  their  work 
from  the  world,  fondling  it  in  seclusion  until  they  were  quite  done 
with  it;  but  the  delight  in  this,  as  in  all  secrets,  depends  upon  a 
sense  of  value  of  what  is  concealed. 

In  a  very  large  and  interesting  class  of  cases  the  social  reference 
takes  the  form  of  a  somewhat  definite  imagination  of  how  one's 
self  —  that  is,  any  idea  he  appropriates  —  appears  in  a  particular 
mind,  and  the  kind  of  self-feeling  one  has  is  determined  by  the  atti- 
tude toward  this  attributed  to  that  other  mind.  A  social  self  of  this 
sort  might  be  called  the  reflected  or  looking-glass  self : — 

"  Each  to  each  a  looking-glass 
Reflects  the  other  that  doth  pass." 

As  we  see  our  face,  figure  and  dress  in  the  glass,  and  are  interested 
in  them  because  they  are  ours,  and  pleased  or  otherwise  with  them 
according  as  they  do  or  do  not  answer  to  what  we  should  like  them 
to  be ;  so  in  imagination  we  perceive  in  another's  mind  some  thought 
of  our  appearance,  manners,  aims,  deeds,  character,  friends,  and  so 
on,  and  are  variously  affected  by  it. 

A  self-idea  of  this  sort  seems  to  have  three  principal  elements; 
the  imagination  of  our  appearance  to  the  other  person ;  the  imagina- 
tion of  his  judgment  of  that  appearance,  and  some  sort  of  self-feeling, 


THE  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  MENTAL  DEVELOPMENT    339 

such  as  pride  or  mortification.  The  comparison  with  a  looking- 
glass  hardly  suggests  the  second  element,  the  imagined  judgment, 
which  is  quite  essential.  The  thing  that  moves  us  to  pride  or  shame 
is  not  the  mere  mechanical  reflection  of  ourselves,  but  an  imputed 
sentiment,  the  imagined  effect  of  this  reflection  upon  another's  mind. 
This  is  evident  from  the  fact  that  the  character  and  weight  of  that 
other,  in  whose  mind  we  see  ourselves,  makes  all  the  difference  with 
our  feeling.  We  are  ashamed  to  seem  evasive  in  the  presence  of  a 
straightforward  man,  cowardly  in  the  presence  of  a  brave  one,  gross 
in  the  eyes  of  a  refined  one,  and  so  on.  We  always  imagine,  and  in 
imagining  share,  the  judgments  of  the  other  mind.  A  man  will  boast 
to  one  person  of  an  action  —  say  some  sharp  transaction  in  trade  — 
which  he  would  be  ashamed  to  own  to  another.  .  .  . 

I  doubt  whether  there  are  any  regular  stages  in  the  development  of 
social  self-feeling  and  expression  common  to  the  majority  of  children. 
The  sentiments  of  self  develop  by  imperceptible  gradations  out  of 
the  crude  appropriative  instinct  of  new-born  babes,  and  their  mani- 
festations vary  indefinitely  in  different  cases.  Many  children  show 
"  self-consciousness  "  conspicuously  from  the  first  half  year ;  others 
have  little  appearance  of  it  at  any  age.  Still  others  pass  through 
periods  of  affectation  whose  length  and  time  of  occurrence  would 
probably  be  found  to  be  exceedingly  various.  In  childhood,  as  at 
all  times  of  life,  absorption  in  some  idea  other  than  that  of  the  social 
self  tends  to  drive  "  self-consciousness  "  out.  Nearly  every  one, 
however,  whose  turn  of  mind  is  at  all  imaginative,  goes  through  a 
season  of  passionate  self-feeling  during  adolescence,  when,  according 
to  current  belief,  the  social  impulses  are  stimulated  in  connection  with 
the  rapid  development  of  the  functions  of  sex.  This  is  a  time  of  hero- 
worship,  of  high  resolve,  of  impassioned  reverie,  of  vague  but  fierce 
ambition,  of  strenuous  imitation  that  seems  affected,  of  gene  in  the 
presence  of  the  other  sex  or  of  superior  persons,  and  so  on. 

Many  autobiographies  describe  the  social  self-feeling  of  youth 
which,  in  the  case  of  strenuous,  susceptible  natures,  prevented  by 
weak  health  or  uncongenial  surroundings  from  gaining  the  sort  of 
success  proper  to  that  age,  often  attains  extreme  intensity.  This 
is  quite  generally  the  case  with  the  youth  of  men  of  genius,  whose 
exceptional  endowment  and  tendencies  usually  isolate  them  more 
or  less  from  the  ordinary  life  about  them.  In  the  autobiography 
of  John  Addington  Symonds  we  have  an  account  of  the  feelings  of 
an  ambitious  boy  suffering  from  ill-health,  plainness  of  feature  — 
peculiarly  mortifying  to  his  strong  aesthetic  instincts  —  and  mental 
backwardness.  "I  almost  resented  the  attentions  paid  me  as  my 
[father's  son.  ...  I  regarded  them  as  acts  of  charitable  condescen- 
sion. Thus  I  passed  into  an  attitude  of  haughty  shyness  which  had 


340  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

nothing  respectable  in  it  except  a  sort  of  self-reliant,  world-defiant 
pride,  a  resolution  to  effectuate  myself,  and  to  win  what  I  wanted  by 
my  exertions.  ...  I  vowed  to  raise  myself  somehow  or  other  to 
eminence  of  some  sort.  ...  I  felt  no  desire  for  wealth,  no  mere 
wish  to  cut  a  figure  in  society.  But  I  thirsted  with  intolerable  thirst 
for  eminence,  for  recognition  as  a  personality.  .  .  .  The  main  thing 
which  sustained  me  was  a  sense  of  self  —  imperious,  antagonistic, 
unmalleable.  .  .  .  My  external  self  in  these  many  ways  was  being 
perpetually  snubbed,  and  crushed,  and  mortified.  Yet  the  inner 
self  hardened  after  a  dumb  blind  fashion.  I  kept  repeating,  'Wait, 
wait.  I  will,  I  shall,  I  must.' '  At  Oxford  he  overhears  a  conversa- 
tion in  which  his  abilities  are  depreciated  and  it  is  predicted  that  he 
will  not  get  his  "first."  "The  sting  of  it  remained  in  me;  and 
though  I  cared  little  enough  for  first  classes,  I  [then  and  there  resolved 
that  I  would  win  the  best  first  of  my  year.  This  kind  of  grit  in  me 
has  to  be  notified.  Nothing  aroused  it  so  much  as  a  seeming  slight, 
exciting  my  rebellious  manhood."  Again  he  exclaims,  "  I  look 
round  me  and  find  nothing  in  which  I  excel.  ...  I  fret  because 
I  do  not  realize  ambition,  because  I  have  no  active  work,  and  cannot 
win  a  position  of  importance  like  other  men." 

This  sort  of  thing  is  familiar  in  literature,  and  very  likely  in  our 
own  experience.  It  seems  worth  while  to  recall  it  and  to  point  out 
that  this  primal  need  of  self-effectuation,  to  adopt  Mr.  Symond's 
phrase,  is  the  essence  of  ambition,  and  always  has  for  its  object  the 
production  of  some  effect  upon  the  minds  of  other  people.  We  feel 
in  the  quotations  above  the  indomitable  surging  up  of  the  individualiz- 
ing, militant  force  of  which  self-feeling  seems  to  be  the  organ. 

Sex-difference  in  the  development  of  the  social  self  is  apparent 
from  the  first.  Girls  have,  as  a  rule,  a  more  impressible  social  sen- 
sibility ;  they  care  more  obviously  for  the  image,  study  it,  reflect  upon 
it  more,  and  so  have  even  during  the  first  year  an  appearance  of  subt- 
lety, finesse,  often  of  affectation,  in  which  boys  are  comparatively 
lacking.  Boys  are  more  taken  up  with  muscular  activity  for  its  own 
sake  and  with  construction;  their  imaginations  are  occupied  somewhat 
less  with  persons  and  more  with  things.  In  a  girl  das  ewig  Weibliche, 
not  easy  to  describe  but  quite  unmistakable,  appears  as  soon  as  she 
begins  to  take  notice  of  people,  and  one  phase  of  it  is  certainly  an  ego 
less  simple  and  stable,  a  stronger  impulse  to  go  over  to  the  other  per- 
son's point  of  view  and  to  stake  joy  and  grief  on  the  image  in  his  mind. 
There  can  be  no  doubt  that  women  are  as  a  rule  more  dependent 
upon  immediate  personal  support  and  corroboration  than  are  men. 
The  thought  of  the  woman  needs  to  fix  itself  upon  some  person  in  whose 
mind  she  can  find  a  stable  and  compelling  image  of  herself  by  which 
to  live.  If  such  an  image  is  found,  either  in  a  visible  or  an  ideal  per- 


; 


THE  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  MENTAL  DEVELOPMENT    341 

son,  the  power  of  devotion  to  it  becomes  a  source  of  strength.  But 
it  is  a  sort  of  strength  dependent  upon  this  personal  complement, 
without  which  the  womanly  character  is  somewhat  apt  to  become 
a  derelict  and  drifting  vessel.  Men,  being  built  more  for  aggression, 
have  relatively  a  greater  power  of  standing  alone.  But  no  one  can 
rean^stand_alone,  and  the  appearance  of  it"  is  due  simply  to  a  greater 
momentum  an3  continuity  of  character  which  stores  up  the  past 
and  resists  immediate  influences.  Directly  or  indirectly  the  imagina- 
tion of  how  we  appear  to  others  is  a  controlling  force  in  all  normal 
minds. 

The  vague  but  potent  phases  of  the  self  associated  with  the  in- 
stinct of  sex  may  be  regarded,  like  other  phases,  as  expressive  of  a 
need  to  exert  power,  and  as  having  reference  to  personal  function. 
The  youth,  I  take  it,  is  bashful  precisely  because  he  is  conscious 
of  the  vague  stirring  of  an  aggressive  instinct  which  he  does  not  know 
liow  either  to  effectuate  or  to  ignore.  And  it  is  perhaps  much 
the  same  with  the  other  sex ;  the  bashful  are  always  aggressive  at 
heart ;  they  are  conscious  of  an  interest  in  the  other  person,  of  a  need 
to  be  something  to  him.  And  the  more  developed  sexual  passion, 
in  both  sexes,  is  very  largely  an  emotion  of  power,  domination,  or 
appropriation.  There  is  no  state  of  feeling  that  says,  "  mine,  mine," 
more  fiercely.  The  need  to  be  appropriated  or  dominated  which, 
in  women  at  least,  is  equally  powerful,  is  of  the  same  nature  at  bottom, 
having  for  its  object  the  attracting  to  itself  of  a  masterful  passion. 
"  The  desire  of  a  man  is  for  the  woman,  but  the  desire  of  the  woman 
is  for  the  desire  of  the  man." 

Although  boys  have  generally  a  less  impressionable  social  self  than 
girls,  there  is  great  difference  among  them  in  this  regard.  Some 
of  them  have  a  marked  tendency  to  finesse  and  posing,  while  others 
have  almost  none.  The  latter  have  a  less  vivid  personal  imagination ; 
they  are  unaffected  chiefly,  perhaps,  because  they  have  no  vivid  idea 
of  how  they  seem  to  others,  and  so  are  not  moved  to  seem  rather 
than  to  be;  they  are  unresentful  of  slights  because  they  do  not  feel 
them;  not  ashamed  or  jealous  or  vain  or  proud  or  remorseful,  because 
all  these  imply  imagination  of  another's  mind.  I  have  known  chil- 
dren who  showed  no  tendency  whatever  to  lie;  in  fact,  could  not  under- 
stand the  nature  or  object  of  lying  or  of  any  sort  of  concealment,  as 
in  such  games  as  hide-and-coop.  This  excessively  simple  way  of  look- 
ing at  things  may  come  from  unusual  absorption  in  the  observation 
and  analysis  of  the  impersonal,  as  appeared  to  be  the  case  with  R., 
whose  interest  in  other  facts  and  their  relation  so  much  preponderated 
over  his  interest  in  personal  attitudes  that  there  were  no  temptations 
to  sacrifice  the  former  to  the  latter.  A  child  of  this  sort  gives  the 
impression  of  being  nonmoral ;  he  neither  sins  nor  repents,  and  has  not 


342  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

the  knowledge  of  good  and  evil.  We  eat  of  the  tree  of  this  knowledge 
when  we  begin  to  imagine  the  minds  of  others,  and  so  become  aware  of 
that  conflict  of  personal  impulses  which  conscience  aims  to  allay. 

Simplicity  is  a  pleasant  thing  in  children,  or  at  any  age,  but  it  is 
not  necessarily  admirable,  nor  is  affectation  altogether  a  thing  of 
evil.  To  be  normal,  to  be  at  home  in  the  world,  with  a  prospect  of 
power,  usefulness  or  success,  the  person  must  have  that  imaginative 
insight  into  other  minds  that  underlies  tact  and  savoir-faire,  morality 
and  beneficence.  This  insight  involves  sophistication,  some  under- 
standing and  sharing  of  the  clandestine  impulses  of  human  nature. 
A  simplicity  that  is  merely  the  lack  of  this  insight  indicates  a  sort  of 
defect.  There  is,  however,  another  kind  of  simplicity,  belonging  to 
a  character  that  is  subtle  and  sensitive,  but  has  sufficient  force  and 
mental  clearness  to  keep  in  strict  order  the  many  impulses  to  which 
it  is  open,  and  so  preserve  its  directness  and  unity.  One  may  be  sim- 
ple like  Simple  Simon,  or  in  the  sense  that  Emerson  meant  when  be 
said,  "  To  be  simple  is  to  be  great."  Affectation,  vanity  and  the 
like,  indicate  the  lack  of  proper  assimilation  of  the  influences  aris- 
ing from  our  sense  of  what  others  think  of  us.  Instead  of  these  in- 
fluences working  upon  the  individual  gradually  and  without  disturbing 
his  equilibrium,  they  overbear  him  so  that  he  appears  to  be  not  him- 
self, posing,  out  of  function,  and  hence  silly,  weak,  contemptible. 
The  affected  smile,  the  "  foolish  face  of  praise  "  is  a  type  of  all 
affectation,  an  external  put-on  thing,  a  weak  and  fatuous  petition  for 
approval.  Whenever  one  is  growing  rapidly,  learning  eagerly,  pre- 
occupied with  strange  ideals,  he  is  in  danger  of  this  loss  of  equilibrium ; 
and  so  we  notice  it  in  sensitive  children,  especially  girls,  in  young 
people  between  fourteen  and  twenty,  and  at  all  ages  in  persons  of  un- 
stable individuality. 

This  disturbance  of  our  equilibrium  by  the  out-going  of  the  imagi- 
nation toward  another  person's  point  of  view  means  that  we  are  under- 
going his  influences.  In  the  presence  of  one  whom  we  feel  to  be  of 
importance  there  is  a  tendency  to  enter  into  and  adopt,  by  sympathy, 
his  judgment  of  ourself,  to  put  a  new  value  on  ideas  and  purposes, 
to  recast  life  in  his  image.  With  a  very  sensitive  person  this  tendency 
is  often  evident  to  others  in  ordinary  conversation  and  in  trivial  mat- 
ters. By  force  of  an  impulse  springing  directly  from  the  delicacy  of  his 
perceptions  he  is  continually  imagining  how  he  appears  to  his  inter- 
locutor, and  accepting  the  image,  for  the  moment,  as  himself.  If 
the  other  appears  to  think  him  well-informed  on  some  recondite  mat- 
ter, he  is  likely  to  assume  a  learned  expression;  if  thought  judicious, 
he  looks  as  if  he  were;  if  accused  of  dishonesty,  he  appears  guilty; 
and  so  on.  In  short,  a  sensitive  man,  in  the  presence  of  an  impres- 
sive personality,  tends  to  become,  for  the  time,  his  interpretation  of 


THE  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  MENTAL  DEVELOPMENT    343 

what  the  other  thinks  he  is.  It  is  only  the  heavy  minded  who  will 
not  feel  this  to  be  true,  in  some  degree,  of  themselves.  Of  course 
it  is  usually  a  temporary  and  somewhat  superficial  phenomenon; 
but  it  is  typical  of  all  ascendency,  and  helps  us  to  understand  how 
persons  have  power  over  us  through  some  hold  upon  our  imagina- 
tions, and  how  our  personality  grows  and  takes  form  by  divining 
the  appearance  of  our  present  self  to  other  minds. 

So  long  as  a  character  is  open  and  capable  of  growth  it  retains  a 
corresponding  impressibility,  which  is  not  weakness  unless  it  swamps 
the  assimilating  and  organizing  faculty.  I  know  men  whose  careers 
are  a  proof  of  stable  and  aggressive  character  who  have  an  almost 
:eminine  sensitiveness  regarding  their  seeming  to  others.  Indeed, 
if  one  sees  a  man  whose  attitude  toward  others  is  always  assertive, 
never  receptive,  he  may  be  confident  that  man  will  never  go  far, 
Because  he  will  never  learn  much.  In  character,  as  in  every  phase 
of  life,  health  requires  a  just  union  of  stability  with  plasticity. 

There  is  a  vague  excitement  of  the  social  self  more  general  than 
any  particular  emotion  or  sentiment.  Thus  the  mere  presence  of 
people,  a  "  sense  of  other  persons,"  as  Professor  Baldwin  says,  and  an 
awareness  of  their  observation,  often  causes  a  vague  discomfort, 
doubt  and  tension.  One  feels  that  there  is  a  social  image  of  himself 
urking  about,  and  not  knowing  what  it  is  he  is  obscurely  alarmed. 
Many  people,  perhaps  most,  feel  more  or  less  agitation  and  embar- 
rassment under  the  observation  of  strangers,  and  for  some  even  sitting 
in  the  same  room  with  unfamiliar  or  uncongenial  people  is  harassing 
and  exhausting.  It  is  well  known,  for  instance,  that  a  visit  from  a 
stranger  would  often  cost  Darwin  his  night's  sleep,  and  many  similar 
examples  could  be  collected  from  the  records  of  men  of  letters.  At 
this  point,  however,  it  is  evident  that  we  approach  the  borders  of 
mental  pathology. 

Possibly  some  will  think  that  I  exaggerate  the  importance  of  social 
self-feeling  by  taking  persons  and  periods  of  life  that  are  abnormally 
sensitive.  But  I  believe  that  with  all  normal  and  human  people  it 
remains,  in  one  form  or  another,  the  mainspring  of  endeavor  and  a 
chief  interest  of  the  imagination  throughout  life.  As  in  the  case  with 
other  feelings,  we  do  not  think  much  of  it  so  long  as  it  is  moderately 
and  regularly  gratified.  Many  people  of  balanced  mind  and  congenial 
activity  scarcely  know  that  they  care  what  others  think  about  them, 
and  will  deny,  perhaps  with  indignation,  that  such  care  is  an  impor- 
tant factor  in  what  they  are  and  do.  But  this  is  an  illusion.  If 
failure  or  disgrace  arrives,  if  one  suddenly  finds  that  the  faces  of  men 
show  coldness  or  contempt  instead  of  the  kindliness  and  deference 
that  he  is  used  to,  he  will  perceive  from  the  shock,  the  fear,  the  sense 
of  being  outcast  and  helpless,  that  he  was  living  in  the  minds  of 


344  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

others  without  knowing  it,  just  as  we  daily  walk  the  solid  ground 
without  thinking  how  it  bears  us  up.  This  fact  is  so  familiar  in  litera- 
ture, especially  in  modern  novels,  that  it  ought  to  be  obvious  enough. 
The  works  of  George  Eliot  are  particularly  strong  in  the  exposition 
of  it.  In  most  of  her  novels  there  is  some  character  like  Mr.  Bui- 
strode  in  Middlemarch  or  Mr.  Jermyn  in  Felix  Holt,  whose  respect- 
able and  long  established  social  image  of  himself  is  shattered  by  the 
coming  to  light  of  hidden  truth. 

It  is  true,  however,  that  the  attempt  to  describe  the  social  self 
and  to  analyze  the  mental  processes  that  enter  into  it  almost  una- 
voidably makes  it  appear  more  reflective  and  "  self-conscious  "  than 
it  usually  is.  Thus  while  some  readers  will  be  able  to  discover  in  them- 
selves a  quite  definite  and  deliberate  contemplation  of  the  reflected 
self,  others  will  perhaps  find  nothing  but  a  sympathetic  impulse,  so 
simple  that  it  can  hardly  be  made  the  object  of  distinct  thought. 
Many  people,  whose  behavior  shows  that  their  idea  of  themselves  is 
largely  caught  from  the  persons  they  are  with,  are  yet  quite 
innocent  of  any  intentional  posing ;  it  is  a  matter  of  subconscious 
impulse  or  mere  suggestion.  The  self  of  very  sensitive  but  non- 
reflective  minds  is  of  this  character. 

Extracts  from  Chapter  V  of  Human  Nature  and  the  Social  Order,  C.  H.  Cooley, 
New  York,  1902.    Courtesy  of  Charles  Scribner's  Sons. 

Summary  and  Comment  upon  the  Social  Aspects  of  Mental 

Development 

It  has  been  the  purpose  of  this  section  to  point  out  in  a  general  way 
the  extent  to  which  the  stimuli  leading  to  true  mental  growth  hi  the 
individual  are  determined  by  the  presence  of  other  people,  and  fur- 
ther, the  effect  of  this  social  quality  upon  the  process  of  education  itself. 

The  importance  of  early  social  intercourse  in  determining  the  child's 
character  was  clearly  recognized  by  Froebel,  and  in  his  Mother- 
play  he  gives  abundant  illustration  of  the  way  it  may  occur,  even  in 
the  earliest  stages  of  mental  growth.  We  can  excuse  some  of  the 
artificiality  and  the  symbolism  that  pervades  this  book,  if  we  read  it 
in  the  light  of  the  fundamental  truth  here  suggested.  Froebel  ap- 
parently thought  that  the  attitudes  of  adult  life  were  latent  in  the 
baby  and  that,  if  he  were  exercised  in  various  ways,  these  attitudes 
would  thereby  become  explicit.  In  a  sense  all  of  this  is  true.  That 
is,  the  raw  material  of  impulse  is  there,  waiting  only  to  be  organized 
through  the  child's  interaction  with  the  social  and  material  forces  in 


: 


THE   SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  MENTAL  DEVELOPMENT    345 

his  environment.  In  each  one  of  the  sections  of  the  Mother-play  Froe- 
bel  shows  how  the  social  environment  stimulates  the  baby's  activities 
and  helps  to  organize  them  in  particular  directions.  In  the  first 
"play/'  for  instance,  the  mother  holds  out  her  hands  for  the  baby  to 
press  his  feet  against.  The  initiative  is  within  the  child,  he  is  already 
trying  to  do  something,  he  is  kicking  in  a  general  way,  but  the  mother 
is  at  hand  and  furnishes  a  part  at  least  of  that  environment  within 
which  he  may  try  his  first  powers.  She  thus  helps  to  give  definite 
direction  to  his  impulses  and  thereby  to  organize  them  into  rather 
explicit  reactions.  The  pressing  of  the  feet  against  the  mother's 
hands  is  representative  of  the  way  an  increasingly  large  number  of 
his  impulses  are  conditioned  and  organized  by  his  social  environment. 
At  the  first,  other  people  merely  attract  his  instinctive  attention,  but 
soon,  under  their  influence,  his  vaguely  directed  movements  tend  to 
fall  into  the  channels  that  are  more  or  less  in  accord  with  the  behavior 
of  the  people  about  him.  The  roles  of  imitation  and  social  contrast 
become  increasingly  important.  As  Royce  says,  "  The  playful  child 
seizes  whatever  little  arts  he  has  acquired  by  imitation  to  express  his 
willfulness,  or  to  develop  his  own  devices  or  to  display  himself  to  his 
environment.  .  .  .  The  social  reactions  which  express  the  fondness  for 
contrast  and  opposition  must  on  the  whole  follow  in  their  develop- 
ment the  social  reactions  dependent  upon  imitation." 

We  are  not  here  especially  concerned  with  the  nature  or  mechanism 
of  imitation.  We  need  only  note  that  the  baby  does  at  a  very  early 
period  begin  to  imitate  or  set  himself  over  against  various  of  the  activi- 
ties and  attitudes  of  other  people  and  that  thus,  in  innumerable  and 
subtle  ways,  sometimes  obviously  and  sometimes  obscurely,  does  his 
behavior  become  modified  by  the  types  prevailing  in  his  social  milieu. 

The  learning  of  the  language  of  his  associates  is,  of  course,  the  most 
striking  example  of  the  influence  of  others  in  the  determination  of  the 
development  of  the  child's  impulses.  "  Words  are  the  expressions  of 
certain  reactions  that  we  have  acquired  when  we  were  in  social  rela- 
tions with  our  fellows.  .  .  .  Our  words  are  first  learned  as  part 
of  our  social  intercourse  with  our  fellows."  1  The  social  utility  of 
language  is  impressed  upon  the  child  from  the  start.  The  desire  to 
express  the  objects  of  his  experience  and  to  appeal  intelligently  to 

1  Royce. 


346  SOCIAL  ASPECTS   OF  EDUCATION 

the  minds  of  his  fellows  is  the  same  thing  from  different  points  of  view.1 
Through  language,  an  almost  infinite  number  of  avenues  of  social 
influence  are  opened  up  to  the  child.  By  its  help  he  can  ask  questions, 
give  vent  to  his  curiosity  and,  in  general,  discover  what  other  people 
know  or  are  thinking  about.  In  this  social  crucible,  by  the  help  of 
the  reagent  language,  his  own  ideas  acquire  shape  and  gain  in  substance. 

It  is  no  exaggeration  to  say  that,  in  these  early  years,  by  these  well- 
known  means,  the  child  acquires  the  foundations  of  all  the  important 
mental  attitudes  and  feelings  of  value  that  are  present  in  the  social 
context  in  which  he  lives  and  moves  about.  At  any  rate  the  attitudes 
which  he  does  acquire  are  definitely  related  in  form  and  texture  to  the 
influences  he  has  breathed  in  from  his  social  atmosphere.  We  do  not 
mean  that  in  every  case  the  attitudes  must  be  like  the  copies  furnished 
by  the  social  environment.  Not  only  can  they  never  be  exactly  alike, 
they  may  even  be  markedly  in  contrast.  But  this  very  difference  may 
in  large  degree  be  due  to  the  influence  of  others.  The  changes  due 
to  social  contrast,  or  contrary  suggestion,  as  Royce  and  Baldwin  have 
pointed  out,  are  as  genuine  types  of  social  influence  as  are  those  due 
to  imitation.  In  other  words,  when  a  child  tries  purposely  to  be  dif- 
ferent from  other  people,  and  this  is  by  no  means  an  infrequent  en- 
deavor, he  is  not  thereby  escaping  from  social  impression  but  literally 
acts  as  he  does  just  because  of  this  influence.  As  Royce  suggests,  a 
child's  early  mental  life  is  a  long  process  of  comparing  and  contrasting 
himself  with  others. 

Such,  then,  in  general  are  the  presuppositions  for  the  importance 
of  a  more  serious  consideration  of  the  social  conditions  of  learning  as  a 
whole  and  even  of  the  narrower  aspects  of  the  processes  of  learning. 
From  the  preceding  discussion  certain  general  propositions  may  be 
deduced;  thus:  (a)  The  motives  for  learning  and  the  specific  stimuli 
thereto  are  furnished  by  our  contact  with  people;  (b)  The  presence 
of  a  social  context  within  which  impulses  may  be  put  forth  modifies 
in  important  ways  the  intensity  and  efficiency  of  such  impulses;  (c) 
The  fact  that  the  conditions  under  which  impulse  finds  expression  are 
social  means  that  the  product  will,  in  definite  ways,  be  determined 
socially.  Putting  all  this  in  a  single  proposition,  we  may  say :  Our 
association  with  others  stimulates  us  to  greater  activity  in  specific  and 

1  Royce,  op.  cit.,  pp.  280-281. 


THE  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  MENTAL  DEVELOPMENT    347 

important  ways,  determines  either  positively  or  negatively  the  par- 
ticular organization  of  that  activity  and  the  particular  quality  of  the  j 
results  it  attains.     A  conclusion  from  the  above  would  be  that  no  ade-   s 
quate  control  of  the  process  of  learning  is  possible  which  does  not  recog- 
nize explicitly  the  social  factors  necessarily  involved  in  it. 

The  above  propositions  have  been  briefly  illustrated  in  the  case  of 
the  beginnings  of  mental  growth  in  the  individual,  but  they  have,  as 
well,  a  general  application  to  the  accumulation  of  knowledge  in  the 
human  race  as  a  little  reflection  may  help  us  to  see.  For  example, 
rival  interests  hi  land  helped  to  develop  the  first  crude  geometrical 
ideas;  the  necessities  of  commerce,  social  necessities,  led  to  the  de- 
velopment of  geographical  science.  All  the  modern  sciences  show 
abundantly  the  influence  of  social  interactions  of  various  types. 
Every  branch  of  human  knowledge  has  developed  in  large  measure 
along  two  lines.  In  part  the  problems  have  arisen  in  some  one's  mind 
out  of  the  fact  itself  that  there  are  other  people  present  in  one's  en- 
vironment, so  that,  whether  the  problems  are  distinctly  social  or  not, 
they  acquire  importance  because  of  their  being  associated  with  human 
life  and  need.  In  some  measure  the  problems  relative  to  the  causes 
and  the  control  of  such  diseases  as  Asiatic  cholera,  typhoid  fever, 
yellow  fever,  are  of  this  type.  On  the  other  hand,  some  of  the  prob- 
lems of  science  have  been  more  individualistic  in  origin,  i.e.  they  have 
grown  out  of  the  curiosity  of  the  individual  rather  than  out  of  social 
need  or  social  pressure.  And  yet  because  a  number  of  different  people 
happen  to  be  curious  along  the  same  general  directions  such  problems 
have  more  than  an  individual  interest.  Just  because  of  their  more  or 
less  general  interest  many  different  individuals  contribute  or  cooper- 
ate in  their  solution,  as  has  been  abundantly  illustrated  in  the  develop- 
ment of  electrical  science.  Here  the  problems  had  at  the  first  no 
direct  social  origin  and  yet  the  product  was  distinctly  a  social  one, 
for  many  different  individuals  contributed  to  the  development  of 
the  whole  and  the  discoveries  of  any  one  man  would  certainly  not  have 
been  possible  except  for  the  work  of  many  predecessors  and  contem- 
poraries. In  any  case  the  average  solver  of  problems  can  hardly 
abstract  himself  from  some  idea  of  social  approval  as  he  pursues  his 
work.  He  cannot  work  long  without  some  sort  of  audience,  real  or 
ideal. 


348  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

Mere  social  intercourse  is  in  itself  capable  of  exerting  a  powerful 
stimulus  toward  the  realization  of  problems  and  toward  mental  growth 
generally.  We  have  already  referred  to  this  point  in  the  case  of  the 
baby  and  little  child.  We  may  now  consider  it  with  reference  to 
people  in  general.  We  are  constantly  taking  certain  points  of  view, 
and  as  we  take  them  we  feel  that  we  must  express  them,  explain  them 
or  defend  them.  For  instance,  a  young  man  through  reading  and  re- 
flection came  to  the  idea  that  the  principle  of  free  trade  is  not  only 
more  logical  but  fairer  to  the  general  interests  of  the  country  than  is 
that  of  protection.  It  all  seemed  clear  enough  to  himself  as  he  thought 
it  over,  but  he  did  not  realize  how  imperfectly  he  really  conceived  his 
new  point  of  view  until  he  tried  to  state  it  to  one  of  his  friends.  He 
then  discovered  with  some  astonishment  that  the  mere  statement  of 
the  free-trade  doctrine  in  its  abstract  form  was  not  of  necessity  con- 
vincing to  one  who  believed  the  opposite,  and  that  before  he  could  hope 
to  convince  others  he  must  clear  up  his  own  mind  much  further  upon 
the  subject,  that  he  must  organize  his  facts  so  they  would  be  more  tell- 
ing, that  ways  of  presenting  them  must  be  studied  out  so  that  they 
might  not  only  be  clear  but  forceful  and  unexceptionable.  He  was 
brought  face  to  face  with  this  necessity  only  through  conversation  with 
his  friends,  and  through  conversation  he  succeeded  in  clearing  up  and 
organizing  his  ideas  where  before  he  had  had  only  vague  feelings. 
This  case  is  quite  typical.  As  a  recent  author  says,1  ideas  are  clarified 
by  the  white  heat  of  free  discussion :  nothing  so  helps  one  to  know 
his  own  powers  as  measuring  them  with  those  of  others.  In  endeavor- 
ing to  enlighten  others  we  find  ourselves  enlightened.  True  conversa- 
tion is  always  reciprocally  beneficial.  "  No  matter  how  much  you 
give  you  are  sure  to  receive  something.  .  .  .  The  more  you  give,  the 
more  you  have  to  give.  Expression  of  thought  makes  it  grow.  As 
soon  as  you  express  one  thought,  a  hundred  others  may  start  from  it, 
the  avenues  of  the  mind  open  at  once  to  new  views,  to  new  percep- 
tions of  things."  2  "  On  the  wings  of  conversation  the  seeds  and  germs 
of  new  productions  are  constantly  scattered,  and  the  thoughts  of  one 
mind  cause  new  thoughts  to  spring  into  being  from  contact  with  those 
of  another."  3  "  The  inner  being,  the  mind  and  heart,  are  nearly 
always  shaped  by  intimate  and  familiar  conversation,  which,  springing 

1  R.  Waters,  Culture  by  Conversation.  2  P.  41.  8  P.  42. 


THE   SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF   MENTAL  DEVELOPMENT    349 

spontaneously  and  naturally  among  friends  and  acquaintances,  oper- 
ates unconsciously  in  forming  the  character,  in  inspiring  thought, 
in  shaping  one's  aims  and  ambitions,  and  in  creating  a  desire  for  in- 
tellectual expansion."  l 

It  appears  that  the  ancient  Greeks  were  the  first  to  recognize  the 
value  of  discussion  in  the  development  of  meanings  and  the  reaching 
of  conclusions.  Socrates  and  his  immediate  school  are  represented 
as  depending  altogether  upon  the  exchange  of  thought  in  conversation 
in  the  development  of  their  ethical  and  philosophical  points  of  view. 
In  fact,  the  very  problems  which  led  to  the  discussions  were  rife  in  the 
social  order  of  the  time.  It  was  in  the  everyday  street-corner  talk, 
in  familiar  conversation  upon  questions  actually  present  in  their  social 
and  political  life,  that  they  finally  came  to  formulate  points  of  view, 
concepts  of  the  good,  of  justice,  of  the  perfect  state  and  the  perfect 
life.  Although  they  finally  got  into  the  depths  of  philosophy,  in  the 
beginning  their  questions  were  quite  concrete.  It  was  not  abstract 
goodness  or  justice  that  started  them  to  thinking.  It  was  the  problem 
of  how  to  live  lives  with  more  of  the  concrete  reality  of  justice  in  them, 
or  perhaps  whether  the  just  life  was  really  practical  and  desirable  after 
all  or  not.  As  they  discussed  such  questions  this  way  and  that,  definite 
philosophies  of  conduct  were  developed.  The  great  work  of  Aristotle, 
as  a  systematizer  and  as  a  thinker,  was  the  outcome  of  the  seemingly 
endless  discussions  of  his  predecessors.  His  problems  came  to  him 
along  with  many  suggestions  toward  their  solution  through  the  re- 
peated reaction  upon  them  of  other  minds. 

Socrates  is  sometimes  represented  as  affecting  ignorance  that  he 
might  more  effectively  draw  out  and  thus  teach  some  youth.  It  is 
just  possible  that  this  was  not  all  pretense,  however,  and  that  he 
genuinely  sought  to  clear  up  his  own  ideas  by  inducing  some  unso- 
phisticated mind  to  react  upon  his  problem,  or  perhaps,  even  to  find 
the  problem  itself  in  the  naive  unreserved  expression  of  opinion  on 
the  part  of  some  young  man  (unreserved  because  the  youth  would 
not  be  abashed  by  any  affectation  of  superiority  in  the  questioner). 
But  whether  Socrates'  ignorance  was  real  or  pretended,  there  have 
been  people  since  his  day  who,  though  able  to  reflect  independently, 
have  found  it  immensely  easier  and  more  productive  of  results  to 

10p.  cit.,  pp.  ix,  x. 


350  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

develop  their  ideas  through  discussing  them  with  others.  The  prev- 
alence of  the  dialogue  form  in  the  literature  of  philosophy  may 
possibly  indicate  that  the  presence  of  even  an  imaginary  social  group 
tends  to  stimulate  one's  thinking.  Many  of  our  most  important 
scientific  distinctions,  classifications,  concepts,  etc.,  have  been  de- 
veloped, either  in  our  efforts  to  justify  or  make  clear  our  own  attitudes 
to  others,  or  through  the  mutual  reaction  of  individuals  upon  a  com- 
mon problem.  What  each  person  does  in  a  case  of  this  kind  stimu- 
lates his  companions  to  further  effort  so  that  the  intellectual  conclu- 
sions are  a  genuine  social  product.  It  seems  impossible  for  one  mind 
to  see  all  sides  of  a  question  or  to  detect  all  of  its  bearings.  When, 
therefore,  several  people  are  active  together  in  the  solution  of  a  prob- 
lem, it  often  occurs  that  the  most  unexpected  difficulties  are  unearthed 
and  met.  One  can  never  know  just  how  sensible  his  own  ideas  are 
until  he  hears  the  comments  which  other  people  make  upon  them.  In 
developing  a  train  of  thought  it  is  almost  impossible  to  take  a  stand 
outside  and  view  it  impartially;  it  is  too  much  a  part  of  ourselves. 
Hence  the  need  of  friendly  discussion  such  as  social  intercourse  medi- 
ates. 

If  the  interaction  of  minds  in  conversation  and  discussion  is  so 
potent  in  the  development  and  organization  of  the  ideas  of  adults,  is 
it  not  possible  that  there  may  be  great  and  unappreciated  opportuni- 
ties in  conversation  as  a  means  of  mental  development  in  children  ? 
The  prattle  and  questions  of  little  children  seem  endless  and  often 
wearying,  but  everything  points  to  this  same  insatiable  desire  to  talk 
as  a  most  important  channel  for  securing  in  them  healthful  mental 
growth,  provided,  of  course,  the  fact  is  appreciated  by  their  adult 
companions.  Too  often  the  adult  regards  the  talk  of  the  child  as 
merely  childish,  and  when  he  joins  in  with  him  it  is  in  monosyllables 
and  with  much  patronizing  affectation.  But  the  child  really  needs  and 
normally  desires  that  his  questions  be  taken  seriously  and  answered 
candidly.  He  needs  the  reaction  of  his  parents  and  others  to  his  child- 
hood problems. 

Just  as  we  find  our  own  thought  processes  stimulated  by  the  con- 
versation of  some  people  and  deadened  by  that  of  others,  so  must  it 
be  with  the  child.  He  finds  the  same  difference  in  the  replies  to  his 
questions  which  he  elicits  from  his  elders,  and  in  the  conversation  they 


THE  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  MENTAL  DEVELOPMENT    351 

share  with  him  as  we  find  in  our  intercommunications.  Sometimes 
his  spirits  are  lifted  up  and  expanded;  sometimes  they  are  completely 
flattened  out.  The  parent  can  thus  deaden  or  stimulate  the  spirit  of 
inquiry  in  his  child.  The  child  can  just  as  truly  find  his  parent  "sug- 
gestive "  in  what  he  says  and  in  the  way  he  says  it  as  does  the  parent 
the  words  of  some  brilliant  adult  conversationalist. 

Through  the  proper  answering  of  the  child's  questions,  and  through 
talking  to  him  about  things  within  his  range  of  interests,  such  results 
as  the  following  may  be  attained  and  in  perfectly  natural  ways:  (a) 
His  fund  of  available  knowledge  may  be  increased,  (b)  He  may  be 
brought  to  a  consciousness  of  new  problems  and  may  be  stimulated  to 
grapple  with  them,  (c)  Through  conversation  his  ideas  may  be  cleared 
up  and  organized  into  natural  and  useful  attitudes  or  systems,  (d) 
All  these  are  merely  ways  of  saying  that  his  whole  intellectual  outlook 
as  well  as  his  valuations  and  appreciations  of  life  may  be  in  this  manner 
appreciably  broadened.  The  information  which  one  seemingly  gives 
another  to  whom  he  talks  is  not  really  merely  given,  if  the  conversa- 
tion is  genuine,  and,  by  genuine,  we  mean  mutual  activity  along  some 
given  line  of  thought.  The  case  is  quite  different  when  a  person  pas- 
sively receives  the  information  through  a  lecture  or  a  book.  It  is 
information  that  comes  to  one  in  this  way  that  is  noneducative. 

If  intelligent  conversation  has  such  a  place  as  this  in  mental  growth, 
how  cruelly  perverse  was  the  old  adage  that  children  must  be  seen 
and  not  heard!  The  distraction  and  teasing  quality  of  much  of  the 
talk  of  children  is  the  direct  outcome  of  the  failure  of  the  child  to  find 
in  the  parent  or  companion  any  adequate  response  to  his  impulses 
and  inquiries.  Hence  we  are  not  standing  for  the  proposition  that 
mere  child  talk  is  of  great  value.  The  value  arises  only  as  it  fuses 
with  an  appreciative  response  in  some  older  person  who  is  awake  to 
the  importance  of  his  opportunity  when  he  holds  communion  with  the 
child  spirit. 

Scott,  in  his  Social  Education  (pp.  180  ff.),  gives  an  interesting  illus- 
tration of  how  a  child  may,  through  conversation  with  an  adult,  obtain 
information  that  will  be  truly  educative.  A  four-year-old  girl  is 
walking  in  the  woods  with  her  father  and  sees  some  toadstools  which 
she  calls  "  little  tables."  A  conversation  ensues  in  which  the  father 
does  not  attempt  to  correct  the  child's  notion  directly,  but  rather  to 


352  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

draw  her  out  and  to  discuss  with  her  the  implications  of  such  a  view 
of  toadstools.  To  quote  from  Scott :  "  Both  father  and  child  are 
working  on  the  same  stream  of  thought,  and  it  makes  little  difference 
which  of  them  expresses  the  thoughts  that  come.  The  father  may 
express  the  child's  thought,  or  the  child  may  express  her  own.  The 
father  may  even  express  his  own  thoughts  in  so  far  as  they  are  not 
accepted  authoritatively."  In  other  words,  where  there  is  mutual 
interchange  of  thought,  where  there  is  genuine  activity  on  both  sides 
with  reference  to  a  common  problem,  the  points  of  view  brought  out 
will  belong  genuinely  to  both  parties.  An  idea  which  one  person  gets 
from  another  under  such  circumstances  is  not  merely  annexed;  it 
becomes  an  organic  part  of  his  own  psychical  attitude  because  he  is 
himself  active  in  the  same  direction.  Persons  thus  in  rapport  with 
each  other  constitute  a  psychical  unity  which  is  of  the  greatest  signifi- 
cance for  all  types  of  mental  enlargement. 

"  Children  who  have  grown  up  in  homes  in  which  the  talk  ran  on 
large  lines  and  touched  on  all  the  great  interests  of  life  will  agree  that 
nothing  gave  them  greater  pleasure  or  more  genuine  education.  There 
are  homes  in  which  the  very  atmosphere  makes  for  wide  knowledge 
of  life,  for  generous  aims,  for  citizenship  in  the  world,  as  well  as  in  the 
locality  in  which  the  home  stands.  Teachers  in  schools  and  colleges 
find  the  widest  differences  in  range  of  information  and  quality  of  in- 
telligence in  the  boys  and  girls  who  come  to  them.  Some  children 
bring  a  store  of  knowledge  and  sound  tastes  with  them ;  others  seem 
to  have  had  no  cultivation  of  any  sort,  are  ignorant  of  everything 
save  the  few  subjects  which  they  have  been  compelled  to  study,  and 
have  no  personal  acquaintance  with  books  or  art  or  nature  or  the 
large  affairs  of  the  world.  They  have  absorbed  nothing,  for  there  has 
been  nothing  to  absorb ;  all  that  they  know  has  been  poured  into  them. 
The  fortunate  children  have  grown  up  in  association  with  men  and 
women  of  general  intelligence,  have  heard  them  talk  and  lived  among 
their  books. 

"  There  is  no  educational  opportunity  in  the  homes  more  important 
than  the  talk  at  table.  But  this  educational  influence  must  issue  from 
the  spirit  and  interests  of  the  parents;  it  must  never  wear  a  peda- 
gogic air  and  impose  a  schoolroom  order  on  a  life  which  ought  to  be 
free,  spontaneous  and  joyful.  The  home  in  which  the  talk  is  prear- 


THE  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  MENTAL  DEVELOPMENT    353 

ranged  to  instruct  the  children  would  be,  not  a  garden  where  birds 
and  dogs  and  children  play  together,  but  an  institution  in  which 
the  inmates  live  by  rule  and  not  instinct.  .  .  . 

"It  is  not  the  child  of  six  who  sits  at  the  table  and  listens;  it 
is  a  human  spirit,  eager,  curious,  wondering,  surrounded  by  mysteries, 
silently  taking  in  what  it  does  not  understand  to-day,  but  which  will 
take  possession  of  it  next  year  and  become  a  torch  to  light  it  on  its  way. 
It  is  through  association  with  older  people  that  these  fructifying  ideas 
come  to  the  child ;  it  is  through  such  talk  that  he  finds  the  world  he 
is  to  possess. 

"  The  talk  of  the  family  ought  not,  therefore,  to  be  directed  at  him  or 
shaped  for  him ;  but  it  ought  to  make  a  place  for  him.  If  the  Balkan 
situation  comes  up,  let  the  boy  get  out  the  atlas  and  find  Bosnia  and 
Bulgaria ;  it  is  quite  likely  that  his  elders  may  have  forgotten  the  exact 
location  of  these  countries;  it  is  even  possible  that  they  may  never 
have  known.  .  .  . 

"Talk  on  books,  plays,  pictures,  music,  may  have  the  same  quality 
of  a  common  interest  for  those  who  listen  as  well  as  for  those  who 
talk.  There  are  homes  in  which  the  informal  discussion  of  these 
matters  is  a  liberal  education;  and  long  years  after,  children,  who 
were  not  taken  account  of  at  the  time,  remember  phrases  and  sentences 
that  have  been  key  words  in  their  vocabulary  of  life.  .  .  . 

"  Children  are  part  of  the  family  and  have  a  right  to  a  share  in  the 
talk;  do  not  silence  them  by  the  old-fashioned  arbitrary  rule  com- 
manding them  to  be  "  seen  but  not  heard."  If  they  are  in  the  right 
atmosphere,  they  will  not  be  intrusive  or  impertinent;  perhaps  one 
reason  why  some  American  children  are  aggressive  and  lacking  in 
respect  is  the  frivolity  of  the  talk  that  goes  on  in  some  American  fami- 
lies. Make  place  for  their  interests,  their  questions,  the  problems  of 
their  experience ;  for  there  are  young  as  well  as  old  perplexities.  En- 
courage them  to  talk,  and  meet  them  more  than  halfway  by  the  ut- 
most hospitality  to  the  subjects  that  interest  tnd  puzzle  them.1 

So  much  for  the  general  significance  of  conversation  in  the  process 
of  mental  growth.  It  is  possible,  however,  as  Royce  has  done,  to  carry 
the  analysis  still  further  and  to  show  that  the  various  psychical  pro- 
cesses usually  discussed  in  psychology  as  purely  individualistic  affairs 

1  From  the  Outlook,  Nov.  14,  1908. 
2  A 


354  SOCIAL  ASPECTS   OF  EDUCATION 

are  definitely  social  in  their  development  and  depend  upon  social 
stimuli  for  their  practical  efficiency.  This  has  been  admirably  done 
in  the  preceding  extract  from  Royce.  Social  influences  react  upon 
the  development  of  our  meanings,  of  our  appreciations  and  of  our 
feelings  in  general.  Our  dominant  habits  are  social, ,  our_  perceptive 
activity  is,  in  a  measure,  socially  determined,  and  to  some  extent  also 
are  our  organizations  of  ideas,  that  is,  our  associative  systems,  and 
our  concepts  are  social.  Of  judgment,  Royce  says,  in  substance,  that 
it  is  essentially  an  acceptance  or  a  rejection  of  a  proposed  portrayal 
of  objects  as  adequate  or  fitting  for  its  own  purpose.  This  critical  atti- 
tude develops  "  because  we  have  so  often  compared  our  judgments 
with  those  of  our  fellows."  Reasoning,  he  maintains,  is  "  the  process 
of  considering  the  results  of  proposed  conceptions  and  judgments." 
"  Reasoning  is  a  consequence  of  social  situations,  and  especially  of 
the  process  of  comparing  various  opinions  and  connections  of  opinion 
as  these  have  grown  up  among  men.  The  process  of  contrasting  my 
own  acts  with  my  fellow's  acts,  and  in  consequence  of  contrasting  my 
own  views  with  what  I  regard  as  the  ideas  of  my  fellow,  this  is  the  pro- 
cess which  is  responsible  for  that  kind  of  consciousness  which  appears 
in  all  our  thoughtful  activities."  "  Nobody  learns  to  reason  except 
after  other  people  have  pointed  out  to  him  how  they  view  his  attempts 
to  give  his  own  acts  of  thought  connection."  "  Reasoning  results 
from  trying  so  to  portray  a  plan  (of  conduct)  as  to  persuade  other 
people  to  assume  it."  Reasoning  is  a  reduced  conflict;  we  have  be- 
come critical  and  sharp  in  our  distinctions  between  truth  and  error  be- 
cause we  have  so  often  compared  judgments  with  other  people,  have 
criticized,  accepted  or  rejected  their  expressions  and  their  attitudes 
toward  things. 

We  see,  thus,  that  it  is  quite  possible  to  view  the  different  elementary 
mental  processes  as  phases  of  mental  differentiation  dependent  in 
very  important  ways  upon  our  contact  with  one  another.  They  are 
certainly  of  this  type,  rather  than  spontaneous  developments  of  the 
mind  produced  by  its  mere  reaction  upon  the  external  world  of  physi- 
cal objects.  In  other  words,  it  is  not  only  conceivable,  but  also  alto- 
gether probable,  that  an  individual  brought  into  contact  with  a  purely 
physical  environment  would  scarcely  rise  above  the  mere  feeling 
and  simple  apprehension  of  the  animal  level  of  intelligence. 


THE  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  MENTAL  DEVELOPMENT    355 


REFERENCES 

BALDWIN,  J.  M.    Social  and  Ethical  Interpretations.    New  York. 

%_BAWDEN,  H.  H.  "The  social  character  of  consciousness  and  its  bear- 
ings upon  education,"  El.  S.  T.,  4 : 366. 

„  BOHANNON,  E.  W.  "The  only  child  in  a  family,"  Fed.  S.,  5 :  475- 
496.  Such  children  strikingly  inferior,  especially  morally,  to 
children  with  associates. 

COOLEY,  C.  H.  Human  Nature  and  the  Social  Order.  New  York, 
1902.  The  entire  book  is  relevant.  See  especially  Chapter  I 
treating  of  the  general  relations  of  individual  and  society ;  Chap- 
ter II,  suggestion  and  choice,  the  significance  of  imitation;  Chap- 
ters V  and  VI,  the  social  character  of  personality ;  Chapter  IX, 
nature  of  leadership. 

FITE,  WARNER.  Individualism,  pp.  135-182.  New  York,  1910. 
Holds  that  individual,  if  not  of  primary  significance,  is  at  least 
coordinate  with  society  both  in  origin  and  in  function. 

HARTSON,  L.  D.  "The  psychology  of  the  club,"  Fed.  S.,  18:353. 
An  inductive  study.  Quite  general. 

KING,  I.  "Imitation,"  ThePsychology  of  Child  Development.  Chicago, 
2d  ed.,  1904,  Chapter  X.  An  interpretation  of  imitation  as  an 
expression  of  individuality. 

LEBoN,  GUSTAVE.  The  Crowd.  A  Study  in  the  Popular  Mind.  Con- 
tains much  suggestive  material. 

MEAD,  G.  H.  "The  psychology  of  social  consciousness  as  implied 
in  instruction,"  Science,  31 :  688.  May  6,  1910. 

"  Social  psychology  as  a  counterpart  of  physiological  psychology," 

Psychological  Bulletin.     December,  1909. 

"Fite's  Individualism,"  Psychological  Bulletin.   September,  1911, 

p.  323.     An  acute  criticism. 

O'SHEA,  M.  V.  Social  Development  and  Education.  Boston,  1909. 
Part  I  deals  with  the  fundamental  social  manifestations  in  early 
mental  development.  See  also  Chapters  XI,  XII,  XVI,  XVII. 
The  character  of  the  only  child,  252. 

Ross,  E.  A.    Social  Psychology.    New  York,  1908. 

ROYCE,  J.  "The  social  aspect  of  the  higher  forms  of  docility,"  Out- 
lines  of  Psychology,  Chapter  XII.  Reprinted  herewith. 

SCOTT,  C.  A.  "Social  Education,"  Ed.,  30:  67,  163,  210.  Illustrates 
the  need  of  and  method  of  developing  self-organized  groups. 


356  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

SMALL,  M.  H.     "The  suggestibility  of  children,"  Fed.  S.,  4 :  176-220. 
1896. 

"On  some  psychical  relations  of  society  and  solitude,"  Fed.  S., 

7 : 13-69.     1900. 

VINCENT,  G.  E.    The  Social  Mind  and  Education.    Chapter  IV.    New 
York,  1897. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THE  SOCIAL  ATMOSPHERE  OF  THE  SCHOOL  AND  THE  LEARNING  PROCESS 

The  Social  Aspects  of  Learning 

Introductory  Statement 

WE  considered  in  the  last  section  the  general  influence  exerted 
upon  the  individual  by  his  social  environment.  In  this  section  we 
take  up  the  more  specific  problem  of  the  social  nature  of  the  learning 
process,  especially  as  it  occurs  in  the  school. 

It  is,  first  of  all,  of  interest  to  know  that  the  mere  presence  of  others 
in  one's  immediate  environment  exerts  a  marked  influence  upon  one's 
mental  processes.  This  influence  has  been  made  the  subject  of  many 
experiments,  the  more  important  of  which  are  summarized  in  the  ac- 
companying paper  by  Burnham.  As  he  suggests  at  the  close,  however, 
there  is  a  still  wider  point  of  view,  "  In  a  true  social  group  the  rela- 
tions are  more  vital "  than  are  those  described  in  these  experiments. 
This  primary,  possibly  instinctive,  susceptibility  to  other  people  is 
increased  many  fold  when  individuals  gain  that  spiritual  rapport  with 
each  other  that  is  characteristic  of  true  social  relationship.  The  mem- 
bers of  a  school  or  of  a  class  influence  one  another  not  in  the  bare  ele- 
mentary fashion  due  to  mere  proximity  of  one  to  another.  They 
form  rather  a  vital  spiritual  unity  in  which  every  susceptibility  is 
greatly  enhanced. 

In  view  of  this  fact  the  student  will  find  Mead's  paper  of  particular 
value  as  a  statement  of  the  need  of  more  definitely  recognizing  social 
motives  and  stimuli  in  the  regular  work  of  the  school.  We  saw  in  the 
preceding  section  what  an  important  part  communication,  social 
exchange  of  ideas,  has  played  in  the  development  of  the  race  and  of 
the  individual.  Mead  points  out  that  the  average  school  almost 
entirely  ignores  this  factor  in  attempting  to  train  the  child.  In  the 
extract  from  Dewey,  certain  of  the  traditional  school  studies  are  dis- 

357 


I 
358  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

cussed  from  the  point  of  view  of  their  value  as  means  of  social  communi- 
cation and  social  development.  In  the  extracts  from  Scott,  the  student 
will  find  an  account  of  an  interesting  attempt  to  make  available,  hi 
the  practical  work  of  the  school,  the  social  motives  and  group  influ- 
ences described  by  the  previous  writers.  Scott  admits  that  it  may 
not  be  possible  to  do  in  all  schools  just  what  he  has  done,  but  his  work 
is  nevertheless  most  suggestive.  Whether  all  the  details  of  his  experi- 
ment are  generally  practicable  or  not,  as  a  whole  it  calls  attention  to 
a  large  and  neglected  fund  of  resources  which,  if  utilized  even  in  part 
would  do  much  to  vitalize  and  render  more  effective  the  work  of  the 
school. 

But  whether  or  not  a  teacher  is  so  situated  as  to  put  into  operation 
some  special  device  such  as  that  employed  by  Scott,  he  can  at  least 
do  much  in  the  schools,  as  they  are  to  render  the  work  of  instruction 
and  of  learning  less  individualistic  and  more  social.  This  phase  is 
discussed  hi  the  comment  at  the  close  of  the  section. 

The  Group  as  a  Stimulus  to  Mental  Activity 

As  the  social  instincts  in  man  are  fundamental,  one  of  the  most 
important  factors  of  his  environment  is  the  presence  or  absence  of 
other  human  beings.  This  cannot  be  ignored.  The  problem  I  wish 
to  present  is  this :  What  is  the  effect  on  mental  activity  of  the  presence 
of  a  group  of  other  persons,  if  studied  objectively,  like  the  effects  of 
temperature,  barometric  pressure  or  the  like?  Perhaps  the  best 
way  to  present  this  problem  is  to  recount  briefly  the  meager  but 
important  results  of  investigations  already  made.1 

Studies  in  social  psychology  have  shown  that  an  individual  alone 
and  the  same  individual  in  a  group  are  two  different  psychological 
beings.  Recent  investigations  show  that  the  same  is  true  of  children. 
The  child  working  alone  is  different  from  the  child  working  in  a  class. 
A  few  years  ago  Dr.  Mayer,  of  Wiirzburg,  studied  experimentally 
this  difference  as  regards  the  ability  to  do  school  work.  His  problem 
was  to  determine  whether  and  under  what  conditions  the  work  of 
pupils  in  a  group  give  better  results  than  the  individual  work  of 
isolated  pupils.  He  tested  the  ability  of  pupils  to  work  alone  or  in 
company  with  others,  using  dictation,  mental  arithmetic,  memory 
tests,  combination  tests  after  the  manner  of  Ebbinghaus,  and  written 
arithmetic. 


reference  to  the  studies  mentioned  below,  see  Fed.  S.,  Vol.  12,  June,  1905, 
229-230. 


SOCIAL  ATMOSPHERE  AND   THE  LEARNING  PROCESS     359 

Dr.  Mayer's  method  was  briefly  as  follows :  a  number  of  boys  in 
the  fifth  school  year  of  the  people's  school  in  Wlirzburg  were  given 
five  different  tasks  as  class  exercises,  and  also  each  boy  was  required 
to  prepare  a  similar  task  for  comparison  in  which  he  sat  alone  in  the 
classroom,  only  the  class  teacher  or  a  colleague  being  present.  The 
material  for  the  tasks  was  carefully  chosen  and  was  familiar  to  the 
pupils.  The  pupils  were  representative  of  very  different  elements  as 
regards  school  ability,  behavior,  temperament  and  home  conditions. 
The  number  tested  was  twenty-eight;  the  average  age,  twelve  years. 

In  general,  the  result  of  the  work  of  the  pupils  in  groups  was  supe- 
rior to  their  work  as  individuals.  This  appeared  not  only  in  the  de- 
crease of  time,  but  in  the  superior  quality  of  the  work  done.  In 
individual  cases,  the  saving  of  time  was  especially  striking ;  for  example, 
one  pupil  for  a  combination  test  required  ten  minutes  and  25  seconds 
when  working  alone,  for  a  similar  test  when  working  with  the  group 
7  minutes  and  30  seconds;  another,  alone  13  minutes  and  n  seconds, 
with  the  group  6  minutes  and  45  seconds. 

Dr.  Triplett  tested  the  influence  of  the  presence  of  a  coworker  on 
a  simple  physical  performance.  His  subjects  were  forty  school  chil- 
dren, and  he  had  them  turn  a  reel  as  rapidly  as  possible.  The  children 
turned  the  reel  now  alone  and  then  in  company  with  another  child, 
in  both  cases  with  directions  to  turn  as  rapidly  as  possible.  Two 
results  were  noted.  It  appeared,  on  the  one  hand,  that  pupils  worked 
more  rapidly  when  another  child  worked  in  combination;  but,  on  the 
other  hand,  in  case  of  many  children,  hasty,  uncoordinated  movements 
appeared  which  reduced  their  performance. 

Wherever  men  are  together,  the  individual  is  influenced  by  others 
without  being  aware  of  it.  This  is  specially  well  illustrated  by  cer- 
tain experiments  in  the  laboratory.  Meumann  cites  the  case  of  a 
subject  whose  work  at  night  with  the  ergograph  had  a  very  definite 
value.  Accidentally  one  evening  Meumann  entered  the  laboratory, 
and  at  once  the  work  done  was  decidedly  increased  in  comparison  with 
that  of  other  days,  and  this  without  the  subject's  making  any  volun- 
tary effort  to  accomplish  more.  In  such  experiments  the  subject 
always  attempts  to  do  his  utmost,  and  hence  the  significance  of  the 
increased  work  done  in  the  presence  of  another  individual.  Many 
examples  of  such  effects  of  suggestion  have  been  reported  by  psychol- 
ogists. 

Meumann,  in  experiments  in  the  People's  Schools,  corroborated  the 
results  of  Triplett  and  Fere  in  a  striking  manner.  Seven  pupils  of  the 
age  of  thirteen  or  fourteen  were  tested  repeatedly  with  the  dynamom- 
eter and  ergograph.  In  case  of  the  test  of  the  pupils  separately,  with 
no  one  else  in  the  room,  the  amount  of  work  was  always  less  than  when 
others  were  present.  If  the  experiments  were  made  in  the  presence  of 


360  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

the  teacher  alone,  the  pupils  did  not  do  as  much  work  as  when  they 
were  all  together  without  the  teacher. 

From  all  this  it  appears,  as  Mayer  points  out,  that  pupils  in  a  class 
are  in  a  sort  of  mental  rapport;  they  hear,  see  and  know  continually 
what  the  others  are  doing,  and  thus  real  class  work  is  not  a  mere  case 
of  individuals  working  together  and  their  performance  the  summa- 
tion of  the  work  of  many  individuals ;  but  there  is  a  sort  of  class  spirit, 
so  that,  in  the  full  sense  of  the  word,  one  can  speak  of  a  group  per- 
formance, which  may  be  compared  with  an  individual  performance. 
The  pupils  are  members  of  a  community  of  workers.  The  individual 
working  by  himself  is  a  different  person.  Schmidt  in  his  careful  inves- 
tigation testing  school  children  in  their  home  work  as  compared  with 
their  school  work  found  that  for  most  kinds  of  work  the  product  in 
the  classroom  was  superior.  His  results  are  to  a  considerable  degree 
evidence  in  corroboration  of  the  results  found  by  Mayer.  The  child 
studying  school  tasks  at  home  is  relatively  isolated ;  in  the  class  he  is 
one  of  a  social  group  with  common  aims. 

A  noteworthy  result  of  these  investigations  is  the  apparent  im- 
munity of  children  to  distraction  from  ordinary  causes.  Schmidt 
found  that  the  outside  disturbances  —  the  noise  from  the  street, 
from  adjoining  rooms,  and  the  like  had  little  effect  upon  them. 
was  only  interruptions  that  distracted  their  attention,  such  as  con- 
versation with  others,  that  affected  the  quality  of  their  work.  It 
appeared  even  that  a  home  task  completed  without  disturbance  might 
be  poorer  than  the  corresponding  class  work,  and  that  a  home  task 
when  the  pupil  was  disturbed  might  be  better  than  the  class  work. 
And  from  Mayer's  study,  it  appeared  that  the  tendency  to  distraction 
is  diminished  rather  than  increased  by  class  work. 

Meumann,  in  tests  of  the  memory  of  pupils  alone  and  when  working 
together,  found  similar  results.  Disconnected  words  of  two  syllables 
were  used,  which  were  written  down,  pronounced  once  to  the  pupils, 
and  then  written  down  immediately  by  them  from  memory.  It  would 
naturally  be  supposed  that  the  children  working  in  the  classroom 
with  all  the  inevitable  noises  and  disturbances,  would  not  remember 
as  well  as  when  tested  alone.  The  result  of  Meumann 's  investiga- 
tion, however,  was  surprising.  While  in  case  of  children  thirteen  and 
fourteen  years  of  age  there  was  no  essential  difference  in  memory  for 
the  individual  and  the  common  test,  the  difference  was  remarkably  large 
in  case  of  those  eight  and  nine  years  of  age.  On  an  average,  with  the 
individual  test  the  children  remembered  considerably  less  than  in  the 
class.  The  results  were  constant.  Not  a  child  was  found  who  remem- 
bered more  in  the  individual  test  than  in  the  class  test.  From  this 
Meumann  concludes  that  the  great  number  of  disturbing  influences  to 
which  children  are  inevitably  exposed  in  the  classroom  —  the  noise  of 


L 

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SOCIAL  ATMOSPHERE  AND   THE  LEARNING  PROCESS    361 

writing,  whispering,  walking  about,  the  occasional  words  of  the 
teacher,  the  sight  of  the  movements  of  the  pupils,  and  the  like,  which 
one  might  naturally  suppose  would  make  the  results  inferior,  have  no 
special  influence. 

Meumann  asked  a  number  of  the  pupils  in  case  of  the  individual 
tests  whether  they  would  prefer  to  take  such  exercise  in  the  class  or 
alone,  whether  they  were  disturbed  by  the  noise  of  the  other  people. 
To  his  surprise,  80  per  cent  of  the  pupils  gave  the  decided  answer  that 
they  would  prefer  to  do  the  work  in  the  class.  Some  15  per  cent  gave 
no  definite  answer.  The  others,  an  extremely  small  minority,  replied 
that  they  were  disturbed  in  the  classroom ;  and  in  most  cases  these 
were  sensitive,  nervous  or  weak  children,  although  among  them  were 
some  individuals  of  decided  talent. 

Thus  it  appears  that  the  presence  of  a  group  distinctly  affects  the 
mental  activity.  Of  course,  the  easy  explanation  of  the  increased 
ability  to  work  often  found  in  the  group  is  to  say  that  it  is  due  to 
ambition,  rivalry  and  the  like.  This  is  all  true  enough,  but  we  can 
analyze  this  a  little  further. 

A  few  things  are  pretty  obvious.  First  of  all,  where  activity  is 
involved,  there  is  the  stimulus  to  greater  exertion  which  comes  from 
the  sight  of  another  performing  an  act.  As  Professor  James  has  said, 
the  sight  of  action  in  another  is  the  greatest  stimulus  to  action  by 
ourselves.  This  has  manifold  illustrations  from  the  activities  of  primi- 
tive man  to  modern  experiments  in  the  laboratory.  In  early  stages, 
for  example,  an  institution  sometimes  found  is  the  praesuL  A  leader 
stands  before  a  group  who  are  engaged  in  work  or  a  dance  and  himself 
performs  perhaps  in  pantomime  the  activities  which  they  are  attempt- 
ing. This  stimulates  and  renders  easier  the  activity  of  the  group. 
Every  paced  race  on  the  athletic  field  also  furnishes  an  excellent 
illustration.  Again  in  the  laboratory,  Fere  found  that  the  amount  of 
work  one  could  do  with  the  ergograph  was  increased  by  having  another 
person  simply  go  through  the  action  of  contracting  the  muscles  of  the 
finger  in  sight  of  the  subject  of  the  experiment,  the  second  person 
acting  as  a  sort  of  pace-maker  for  the  first.  The  clearer  and  more 
intense  the  idea  of  an  action,  the  more  efficient  the  action. 

There  is  undoubtedly  also  an  effective  stimulus  in  the  presence  of 
the  group.  This  is  the  stimulus  which  comes  from  our  social  impulses 
as  inherited  from  the  past,  and  yet  it  should  be  noticed  that  such 
effective  stimuli,  which,  I  take  it,  are  what  is  really  meant  by  ambition 
and  the  like,  may  act  either  to  increase  or  to  inhibit  the  mental  activity. 
A  certain  degree  of  affective  stimulus  undoubtedly  increases  the  ability 
to  work,  but  if  the  stimulus  is  extreme,  the  work  is  checked  or  inhibited 
altogether.  For  example,  extreme  anger,  stage  fright,  and  even  extreme 
joy,  in  the  presence  of  the  group,  may  inhibit  the  mental  activity. 


362  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

In  many  individuals  at  least,  the  presence  of  the  group  is  a  stimulus 
to  greater  concentration  of  attention.  In  case  others  are  doing  the 
same  thing,  this  helps  us  attend  better  to  the  activity  in  hand ;  and 
even  in  case  others  are  doing  something  different,  the  distraction  itself 
is  sometimes  a  stimulus  to  better  attention,  because  the  individual 
tries  to  resist  the  attraction,  and  there  is  an  over-compensation  which 
improves  the  attention.  Meumann,  for  example,  has  found  this  result 
in  certain  experiments. 

Meumann  emphasizes  particularly  this  compensation  power  of 
attention.  Not  merely  is  it  true  that  the  performance  of  an  indi- 
vidual often  increases  when  there  are  disturbing  stimuli,  because  the 
increased  concentration  to  overcome  the  distractions  increases  the 
work ;  but  more  than  this,  the  compensation,  which  in  this  case  be 
comes  an  over-compensation,  shows  that  the  disturbing  stimulus 
has  the  effect  of  increasing  rather  than  decreasing  the  energy;  that  is, 
it  has  a  dynamogenic  effect,  although  this  effort  does  not  occur  in  case 
of  all  individuals.  .  .  . 

To  describe  the  stimulus  to  the  imagination  from  the  group  would 
be  commonplace.  We  need  not  go  to  the  laboratory  nor  cite  the  case 
of  children  for  illustration.  The  man  in  the  crowd  has  always  beer 
able  to  see  what  has  happened,  and  more  besides ;  to  foresee  impending 
danger,  or  anticipate  success,  or  hear  voices  from  the  unknown  and 
behold  inspiring  visions.  .  .  . 

As  regards  the  relative  merits  of  solitude  or  a  social  environment  for 
scholastic  pursuits  I  am  not  concerned  here  to  speak.  But  the  weight 
of  evidence  thus  far  seems  to  be  to  indicate  the  advantage  of  group 
work,  except  when  individual  and  original  thinking  is  required.  This 
is  perhaps  one  reason  why  the  man  of  genius  has  frequently  desired 
solitude.  There  are  undoubtedly,  also,  great  individual  differences  as 
regards  the  effect  of  social  environment ;  there  are  even  perhaps  dif- 
ferent types  as  regards  the  effectiveness  of  the  stimuli  from  the  social 
group.  There  may  perhaps  be  one  type  that  does  its  best  work  in 
solitude,  another  type  that  does  its  best  work  in  the  group.  This 
again  is  one  of  the  problems  that  should  be  investigated. 

Again,  of  course,  the  question  is  relative  to  the  kind  of  work  done. 
Mayer's  experiments  indicate  that  for  some  kinds  of  work  the  stimulus 
of  the  social  group  is  needed.  For  some  kinds  of  work,  especially 
where  original  thinking  is  demanded,  the  environment  of  solitude  is 
better. 

What  we  may  call  the  social  stimulus  to  mental  activity  is  such  a 
commonplace  matter  that  probably  very  few  realize  its  significance. 
When,  however,  we  recall  the  fundamental  character  of  our  social 
instincts,  it  is  not  strange  that  the  presence  of  other  people  should  be  a 
most  potent  stimulus,  either  increasing  or  checking  the  mental  activity. 


SOCIAL  ATMOSPHERE  AND  THE  LEARNING  PROCESS    363 

Psychologists  have  always  recognized  the  fundamental  character  of 
stimulus  from  ambition,  rivalry,  and  the  like.  But  this  social  stimulus 
goes  much  farther  back,  and  is  rooted  in  the  reflexes  of  the  sympathetic 
nervous  system  that  are  correlated  with  emotion.  This  is  well  illus- 
trated in  experiments  with  animals.  Mosso  found  in  his  experiments 
testing  directly  the  sympathetic  reflexes  in  the  dog  that  the  presence 
of  the  master  in  the  room  at  once  affected  the  reflexes ;  and  Dr.  Yerkes, 
of  Harvard  University,  finds  that  in  his  experiments  with  dogs  the 
presence  of  the  experimenter  is  always  likely  to  affect  the  results. 

The  fundamental  character  of  the  social  stimulus  is  shown  also  in 
many  fields  of  human  activity  according  to  one  view  of  aesthetics.  The 
artist  always  works  with  the  audience  in  his  mind.  The  teacher 
also  and  the  orator  are  apt  to  do  much  of  their  work  with  the  class  or 
audience  in  mind.  I  am  not  concerned  here  with  the  fact  that  this 
often  becomes  a  grotesque  and  exaggerated  mark  of  the  profession,  but 
merely  with  this  as  an  illustration  of  the  fundamental  character  of 
what  we  have  called  the  social  stimulus. 

In  fact,  this  social  stimulus  colors  everything.  It  is  comparable 
only  to  the  constant  peripheral  stimulation  which  is  necessary  to  keep 
us  awake ;  in  like  manner,  a  social  stimulus  is  necessary  as  an  internal 
condition,  as  we  may  say,  of  consciousness.  .  .  . 

The  social  instincts  are  so  strong  in  children  that  if  they  are  so  un- 
fortunate as  to  be  largely  isolated  from  others  they  are  apt  to  create 
imaginary  companions  and  to  live  in  a  dream  world  of  society. 

The  aim  of  this  paper  is  to  present  the  problem.  Let  me,  for  a 
moment,  however,  hint  at  a  wider  point  of  view. 

The  investigations  referred  to  have  chiefly  concerned  the  mere 
presence  or  absence  of  other  individuals  performing  similar  tasks.  In 
a  true  social  group,  the  relations  are  more  vital.  Each  individual  feels  a 
responsibility  and  performs  some  service  for  the  group.  Here  the  stim- 
ulus is  likely  to  be  greater.  Perhaps  the  greatest  stimulus  to  mental 
activity  from  the  group  is  social  success  to  those  who  can  achieve  it. 

Both  experiment  and  observation  have  shown  the  great  stimulus  re- 
sulting from  success  in  general.  Social  beings  that  we  are,  no  form  of 
success  is  so  stimulating  as  a  social  success.  When  we  reflect  that  under 
present  conditions  many  of  the  children  in  our  schools  are  so  placed 
that  a  social  success  is  impossible  we  see  the  significance  of  this  point. 

Wm.  H.  Burnham.    Selected  extracts  from  an  article  in  Science,  N.  S.,  Vol.  13, 
pp.  761-766,  May  20,  1910. 

The  Psychology  of  Social  Consciousness  implied  in  Instruction 

The  sociologist  notes  two  methods  in  the  process  of  primitive 
education.  The  first  is  generally  described  as  that  of  play  and  imi- 


364  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

tation.  The  impulses  of  the  children  find  their  expression  in  play, 
and  play  describes  the  attitude  of  the  child's  consciousness.  Imita- 
tion defines  the  form  of  unconscious  social  control  exercised  by  the 
community  over  the  expression  of  childish  impulses. 

In  the  long  ceremonies  of  initiation  education  assumed  a  more 
conscious  and  almost  deliberate  form.  The  boy  was  induced  into  the 
clan  mysteries,  into  the  mythology  and  social  procedure  of  the  com- 
munity, under  an  emotional  tension  which  was  skillfully  aroused  and 
maintained.  He  was  subjected  to  tests  of  endurance  which  were 
calculated  not  only  to  fulfill  this  purpose,  but  also  to  identify  the  end 
and  interests  of  the  individual  with  those  of  the  social  group.  These 
more  general  purposes  of  the  initiatory  ceremonies  were  also  at  times 
cunningly  adapted  to  enhance  the  authority  of  the  medicine  man  or 
the  control  over  food  and  women  by  the  older  men  in  the  community. 

Whatever  opinion  one  may  hold  to  the  interpretation  which  folk- 
psychology  and  anthropology  have  given  of  this  early  phase  of  educa- 
tion, no  one  would  deny,  I  imagine,  the  possibility  of  studying  the 
education  of  the  savage  child  scientifically,  nor  that  this  would  be  a 
psychological  study.  Imitation,  play,  emotional  tensions  favoring  the 
acquirement  of  clan  myths  and  cults,  and  the  formation  of  clan  judg- 
ments of  evaluation,  these  must  be  all  interpreted  and  formulated  by 
some  form  of  psychology.  The  particular  form  which  has  dealt  with 
these  phenomena  and  processes  is  social  psychology.  The  important 
features  of  the  situation  would  be  found  not  in  the  structure  of  the 
idea  to  be  assimilated  considered  as  material  of  instruction  for  any 
child,  nor  in  the  lines  of  association  which  would  guarantee  their 
abiding  in  consciousness.  They  would  be  found  in  the  impulse  of  the 
children  expressed  in  play,  in  the  tendency  of  the  children  to  put 
themselves  in  the  place  of  the  men  and  women  of  the  group,  i.e.  to 
imitate  them  in  the  emotions  which  consciousness  of  themselves  in  their 
relationship  to  others  evoke,  and  in  the  import  for  the  boy  which  the 
ideas  and  cults  would  have  when  surcharged  with  such  emotions. 

If  we  turn  to  our  system  of  education,  we  find  that  the  materials  of 
the  curriculum  have  been  presented  as  precepts  capable  of  being  as- 
similated by  the  nature  of  their  content  to  other  contents  in  conscious- 
ness, and  the  manner  has  been  indicated  in  which  this  material  can 
be  most  favorably  prepared  for  such  assimilation.  This  type  of  psy- 
chological treatment  of  material  and  the  lesson  is  recognized  at  once 
as  Herbartian.  It  is  an  associational  type  of  psychology.  Its  critics 
add  that  it  is  intellectualistic.  In  any  case,  it  is  not  a  social  psychology, 
for  the  child  is  not  primarily  considered  as  a  self  among  other  selves, 
but  as  an  apperceptionsmasse.  The  child's  relations  to  the  other 
members  of  the  group  to  which  he  belongs  have  no  immediate  bear- 
ing on  the  material  nor  on  the  learning  of  it.  The  banishment  from 


SOCIAL  ATMOSPHERE  AND   THE  LEARNING  PROCESS    365 

the  traditional  school  work  of  play  and  of  any  adult  activities  in 
which  the  child  could  have  a  part  as  a  child,  i.e.  the  banishment  of 
processes  in  which  the  child  can  be  conscious  of  himself  in  relation  to 
others,  means  that  the  process  of  learning  has  as  little  social  content 
as  possible. 

An  explanation  of  the  different  attitudes  in  the  training  of  the  child 
in  the  primitive  and  in  the  modern  civilized  communities  is  found,  in 
part,  in  the  division  of  labor  between  the  school  on  one  side  and  the 
home  and  the  shop  or  the  farm  on  the  other.  The  business  of  storing 
the  mind  with  ideas,  both  materials  and  methods,  has  been  assigned 
to  the  school.  The  task  of  organizing  and  socializing  the  self  to  which 
these  materials  and  methods  belong  is  left  to  the  home  and  the  indus- 
try or  profession,  to  the  playground,  the  street  and  society  in  general. 
A  great  deal  of  modern  educational  literature  turns  upon  the  fallacy 
of  this  division  of  labor.  The  earlier  vogue  of  manual  training  and 
the  domestic  arts,  before  the  frank  recognition  of  their  relation  to  in- 
dustrial training  took  place,  was  due  in  no  small  part  to  the  attempt 
to  introduce  those  interests  of  the  child's  into  the  field  of  his  instruc- 
tion which  gathers  about  a  socially  constituted  self,  to  admit  the  child's 
personality  as  a  whole  into  the  school. 

I  think  we  should  be  prepared  to  admit  the  implication  of  this  edu- 
cational movement  —  that  however  abstract  the  material  is  which  is 
presented  and  however  abstracted  its  ultimate  use  is  from  the  imme- 
diate activities  of  the  child,  the  situation  implied  in  instruction  and  in 
the  psychology  of  that  instruction  is  a  social  situation ;  that  it  is  impos- 
sible to  fully  interpret  or  control  the  process  of  instruction  without 
recognizing  the  child  as  a  self  and  viewing  his  conscious  processes 
from  the  point  of  view  of  their  relation  in  his  consciousness  to  his  self, 
among  other  selves. 

In  the  first  place,  back  of  all  instruction  lies  the  relation  of  the  child 
to  the  teacher,  and  about  it  lie  the  relations  of  the  child  to  the  other 
children  in  the  schoolroom  and  on  the  playground.  It  is,  however, 
of  interest  to  note  that  so  far  as  the  material  of  instruction  is  con- 
cerned, an  ideal  situation  has  been  conceived  to  be  one  in  which  the 
personality  of  the  teacher  disappears  as  completely  as  possible  behind 
the  process  of  learning.  In  the  actual  process  of  instruction,  the 
emphasis  upon  the  relation  of  the  pupil  and  teacher  in  the  conscious- 
ness of  the  child  has  been  felt  to  be  unfortunate.  In  like  manner, 
the  instinctive  social  relations  between  the  children  in  school  hours 
is  repressed.  In  the  process  of  memorizing  and  reciting  a  lesson,  or 
working  out  a  problem  in  arithmetic,  a  vivid  consciousness  of  the  per- 
sonality of  the  teacher  in  his  relationship  to  that  of  the  child  would 
imply  either  that  the  teacher  was  obliged  to  exercise  discipline  to  carry 
on  the  process  of  instruction,  and  this  must  in  the  nature  of  the  case 


366  SOCiAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

constitute  friction  and  division  of  attention,  or  else  that  the  child's 
interest  is  distracted  from  the  subject  matter  of  the  lesson  to  some- 
thing in  which  the  personality  of  the  teacher  and  pupil  might  find 
some  other  content ;  for  even  a  teacher's  approval  and  a  child's 
delight  therein  has  no  essential  relation  to  the  mere  subject  matter 
of  arithmetic  or  English.  It  certainly  has  no  such  relationship  as 
that  implied  in  apprenticeship,  in  the  boy's  helping  on  the  farm  or  the 
girl's  helping  in  the  housekeeping,  has  no  such  relationship  as  that 
of  members  of  an  athletic  team  to  each  other.  In  these  latter  in- 
stances, the  vivid  consciousness  of  the  self  of  the  child  and  of  his  master, 
of  the  parents  whom  he  helps,  and  of  the  associates  with  whom  he 
plays  is  part  of  the  child's  consciousness  of  these  personal  relationships 
and  involves  no  division  of  attention.  Now  it  had  been  a  part  of  the 
fallacy  of  an  intellectualistic  pedagogy  that  a  divided  attention  was 
necessary  to  insure  application  of  attention  —  that  the  rewards,  and 
especially  the  punishments,  of  the  school  hung  before  the  child's  mind 
to  catch  the  attention  that  was  wandering  from  the  task,  and  through 
their  associations  with  the  schoolwork  to  bring  it  back  to  the  task. 
This  involves  a  continual  vibration  of  attention  on  the  part  of  the 
average  child  between  the  task  and  the  sanctions  of  school  discipline. 
It  is  only  the  psychology  of  school  discipline  that  is  social.  The  pains 
and  penalties,  the  pleasures  of  success  in  competition,  of  favorable 
mention  of  all  sorts,  implies  vivid  self-consciousness.  It  is  evident  that 
advantage  would  follow  from  making  the  consciousness  of  self  or  selves, 
which  is  the  life  of  the  child's  play  —  on  its  competition  or  coopera- 
tion—  have  as  essential  a  place  in  instruction.  To  use  Professor 
Dewey's  phrase,  instruction  should  be  an  interchange  of  experience 
in  which  the  child  brings  his  experience  to  be  interpreted  by  the  expe- 
rience of  the  parent  or  teacher.  This  recognizes  that  education  is 
interchange  of  ideas,  is  conversation  —  belongs  to  a  universe  of 
discourse.  If  the  lesson  is  simply  set  for  the  child  —  is  not  his  own 
problem  —  the  recognition  of  himself  as  facing  a  task  and  a  task-master 
is  no  part  of  the  solution  of  the  problem.  But  a  difficulty  which  the 
child  feels  and  brings  to  his  parent  or  teacher  for  solution  is  helped  on 
toward  interpretation  by  the  consciousness  of  the  child's  relation  to  his 
pastors  and  masters.  Just  in  so  far  as  the  subject  matter  of  instruc- 
tion can  be  brought  into  the  form  of  problems  arising  in  the  experience 
of  the  child  —  just  so  far  will  the  relation  of  the  child  to  the  instructor 
become  a  part  of  the  natural  solution  of  the  problem;  actual  suc- 
cess of  a  teacher  depends  in  large  measure  upon  this  capacity  to  state 
the  subject  matter  of  instruction  in  terms  of  the  experience  of  the 
children.  The  recognition  of  the  value  of  industrial  and  vocational 
training  comes  back  at  once  to  this,  that  what  the  child  has  to  learn  is 
what  he  wants  to  acquire,  to  become  a  man.  Under  these  conditions 


SOCIAL  ATMOSPHERE  AND   THE  LEARNING  PROCESS    367 

instruction  takes  on  frankly  the  form  of  conversation,  as  much  sought 
by  the  pupil  as  the  instructor. 

I  take  it  therefore  to  be  a  scientific  task  to  which  education  should 
set  itself,  that  of  making  the  subject  matter  of  its  instruction  the 
material  of  personal  intercourse  between  pupils  and  instructors  and 
between  the  children  themselves,  the  substitution  of  the  converse 
of  concrete  individuals  for  the  pale  abstractions  of  thought. 

To  a  large  extent  our  school  organization  reserves  the  use  of  the 
personal  relation  between  teacher  and  taught  for  the  negative  side, 
for  the  prohibitions.  The  lack  of  interest  in  the  personal  content  of 
the  lesson  is,  hi  fact,  startling  when  one  considers  that  it  is  the  per- 
sonal form  in  which  the  instruction  should  be  given.  The  best  illus- 
tration of  this  lack  of  interest  we  find  in  the  problems  which  disgrace 
our  arithmetic.  They  are  supposed  matters  of  converse,  but  their 
content  is  so  bare,  their  abstractions  so  raggedly  covered  with  the 
form  of  questions  about  such  marketing  and  shopping  and  building 
as  never  were  on  sea  or  land,  that  one  sees  that  the  social  form  of 
instruction  is  a  form  only  for  the  writer  of  the  arithmetic.  When 
further  we  consider  how  utterly  inadequate  the  teaching  force  of  our 
public  schools  is  to  transform  this  matter  into  concrete  experience  of 
the  children  or  even  into  their  own  experience,  the  hopelessness  of  the 
situation  is  overwhelming.  Ostwald  has  written  a  textbook  of  chem- 
istry for  the  secondary  school  which  has  done  what  every  textbook 
should  do.  It  is  not  only  that  the  material  shows  real  respect  for  the 
intelligence  of  the  student,  but  it  is  so  organized  that  the  development 
of  the  subject  matter  is  in  reality  the  action  and  reaction  of  one  mind 
upon  another  mind.  The  dictum  of  the  Platonic  Socrates,  that  one 
must  follow  the  argument  where  it  leads  in  the  dialogue,  should  be  the 
motto  of  the  writer  of  textbooks. 

It  has  been  indicated  already  that  language  being  essentially  social 
in  its  nature,  thinking  with  the  child  is  rendered  concrete  by  taking  on 
the  form  of  conversation.  It  has  been  also  indicated  that  this  can 
take  place  only  wrhen  the  thought  has  reference  to  a  real  problem  in 
the  experience  of  the  child.  The  further  demand  for  control  over  atten- 
tion carries  us  back  to  the  conditions  of  attention.  Here  again  we 
find  that  traditional  school  practice  depends  upon  social  consciousness 
for  bringing  the  wandering  attention  back  to  the  task,  when  it  finds 
that  the  subjective  conditions  of  attention  to  the  material  of  instruc- 
tion are  lacking  and  even  attempts  to  carry  over  a  formal  self-con- 
sciousness into  attention,  when  through  the  sense  of  duty  the  pupil 
is  called  upon  to  identify  the  solution  of  the  problem  with  himself. 
On  the  other  hand,  we  have  in  vocational  instruction  the  situation  in 
which  the  student  has  identified  his  impulses  with  the  subject  matter 
of  the  task.  In  the  former  case,  as  in  the  case  of  instruction,  our 


368  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

traditional  practice  makes  use  of  the  self-consciousness  of  the  child  in 
its  least  effective  form.  The  material  of  the  lesson  is  not  identified 
with  the  impulses  of  the  child.  The  attention  is  not  due  to  the 
organization  of  impulses  to  outgoing  activity.  The  organization  of 
typical  school  attention  is  that  of  a  school  self,  expressing  subordina- 
tion to  school  authority  and  identity  of  conduct  with  that  of  all  the 
other  children  in  the  room.  It  is  largely  inhibitive  —  a  consciousness 
of  what  one  must  not  do,  but  the  inhibitions  do  not  arise  out  of  the 
consciousness  of  what  one  is  doing.  It  is  the  nature  of  school  atten- 
tion to  abstract  from  the  content  of  any  specific  task.  The  child 
must  give  attention  first  and  then  undertake  any  task  which  is  assigned 
him,  while  normal  attention  is  essentially  selective  and  depends  for 
its  inhibitions  upon  the  specific  act. 

Now  consciousness  of  self  should  follow  upon  that  of  attention,  and 
consists  in  a  reference  of  the  act,  which  attention  has  mediated,  to  the 
social  self.  It  brings  about  a  conscious  organization  of  this  particula 
act  with  the  individual  as  a  whole  —  makes  it  his  act,  and  can  only  f 
effectively  accomplished  when  the  attention  is  an  actual  organization 
of  impulses  seeking  expression.  The  separation  between  the  self, 
implied  in  typical  school  attention,  and  the  content  of  the  schc 
tasks  makes  such  an  organization  difficult  if  not  impossible. 

In  a  word,  attention  is  a  process  of  organization  of  consciousness 
It  results  in  the  reenforcement  and  inhibitions  of  perceptions  anc 
ideas.  It  is  always  a  part  of  an  act  and  involves  the  relation  of  that 
act  to  the  whole  field  of  consciousness.  This  relation  to  the  whole  fielc 
of  consciousness  finds  its  expression  in  consciousness  of  self.  But  the 
consciousness  of  self  depends  primarily  upon  social  relations.  The 
self  arises  in  consciousness  pari  passu  with  the  recognition  and  defini- 
tion of  other  selves.  It  is  therefore  unfruitful,  if  not  impossible,  to 
attempt  to  scientifically  control  the  attention  of  children  in  their  formal 
education,  unless  they  are  regarded  as  social  beings  in  dealing  with 
the  very  material  of  instruction.  It  is  this  essentially  social  character 
of  attention  which  gives  its  peculiar  grip  to  vocational  training.  From 
the  psychological  point  of  view,  not  only  the  method  and  material, 
but  also  the  means  of  holding  the  pupils'  attention  must  be  socialized. 

Finally,  a  word  may  be  added  with  reference  to  the  evaluations  — 
the  emotional  reactions  —  which  our  education  should  call  forth. 
There  is  no  phase  of  our  public  school  training  that  is  so  defective  as 
this.  The  school  undertakes  to  acquaint  the  child  with  the  ideas  and 
methods  which  he  is  to  use  as  a  man.  Shut  up  in  the  history,  the 
geography,  the  language  and  the  number  of  our  curricula  should  be 
the  values  that  the  country,  and  its  human  institutions,  have ;  that 
beauty  has  in  nature  and  art ;  and  the  values  involved  in  the  control 
over  nature  and  social  conditions. 


SOCIAL  ATMOSPHERE  AND  THE  LEARNING  PROCESS    369 

The  child  in  entering  into  his  heritage  of  ideas  and  methods  should 
have  the  emotional  response  which  the  boy  has  in  a  primitive  com- 
munity when  he  has  been  initiated  into  the  mysteries  and  the  social 
code  of  the  group  of  which  he  has  become  a  citizen.  We  have  a  few 
remainders  of  this  emotional  response  in  the  confirmation  or  conver- 
sion and  entrance  into  the  church,  in  the  initiation  into  the  fraternity, 
and  in  the  passage  from  apprenticeship  into  the  union.  But  the 
complexities  of  our  social  life  and  the  abstract  intellectual  character 
of  the  ideas  which  society  uses  have  made  it  increasingly  difficult  to 
identify  the  attainment  of  the  equipment  of  a  man  with  the  meaning 
of  manhood  and  citizenship. 

Conventional  ceremonies  at  the  end  of  the  period  of  education 
will  never  accomplish  this.  And  we  have  to  further  recognize  that  our 
education  extends  for  many  far  beyond  the  adolescent  period  to  which 
this  emotional  response  naturally  belongs.  What  our  schools  can  give 
must  be  given  through  the  social  consciousness  of  the  child  as  that 
consciousness  develops.  It  is  only  as  the  child  recognizes  a  social 
import  in  what  he  is  learning  and  doing  that  moral  education  can  be 
given. 

I  have  sought  to  indicate  that  the  process  of  schooling  in  its  barest 
form  cannot  be  successfully  studied  by  a  scientific  psychology  unless 
that  psychology  is  social,  i.e.  unless  it  recognizes  that  the  processes 
of  acquiring  knowledge,  of  giving  attention,  of  evaluating  in  emotional 
terms  must  be  studied  in  their  relation  to  selves  in  a  social  conscious- 
ness. So  far  as  education  is  concerned,  the  child  does  not  become 
social  by  learning.  He  must  be  social  in  order  to  learn. 

G.  H.  Mead.    Reprinted  from  Science,  N.  S.,  Vol.  31,  pp.  688-693,  May  6,  1910. 


The  Social  Values  of  the  Curriculum 

The  principle  of  the  school  as  itself  a  representative  social  institution 
may  be  applied  to  the  subject  matter  of  instruction  —  must  be 
applied,  if  the  divorce  between  information  and  character  is  to  be 
overcome. 

A  casual  glance  at  pedagogical  literature  will  show  that  we  are 
much  in  need  of  an  ultimate  criterion  for  the  value  of  studies,  and 
for  deciding  what  is  meant  by  content  value  and  by  form  value.  At 
present  we  are  apt  to  have  two,  three,  or  even  four  different  stand- 
ards set  up,  by  which  different  values  —  as  disciplinary,  culture,  and 
information  values  —  are  measured.  There  is  no  conception  of  any 
single  unifying  principle.  The  point  here  made  is  that  the  extent 
and  way  in  which  a  study  brings  the  pupil  to  consciousness  of  his 
social  environment,  and  confers  upon  him  the  ability  to  interpret  his 

2B 


370  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

own  powers  from  the  standpoint  of  their  possiblities  in  social  use,  is 
this  ultimate  and  unified  standard. 

The  distinction  of  form  and  content  value  is  becoming  familiar, 
but,  so  far  as  I  know,  no  attempt  has  been  made  to  give  it  rational 
basis.  I  submit  the  following  as  the  key  to  the  distinction:  A  study 
from  a  certain  point  of  view  serves  to  introduce  the  child  to  a  con- 
sciousness of  the  make-up  or  structure  of  social  life;  from  another 
point  of  view,  it  serves  to  introduce  him  to  a  knowledge  of,  and  com- 
mand over,  the  instrumentalities  through  which  society  carries  itself 
along.  The  former  is  the  content  value;  the  latter  is  the  form 
value.  Form  is  thus  in  no  sense  a  term  of  depreciation.  Form  is 
as  necessary  as  content.  Form  represents,  as  it  were,  the  technique, 
the  adjustment  of  means  involved  in  social  action,  just  as  content 
refers  to  the  realized  value  or  end  of  social  action.  What  is  needed 
is  not  a  depreciation  of  form,  but  a  correct  placing  of  it,  that  is,  seeing 
that  since  it  is  related  as  means  to  end,  it  must  be  kept  in  subordina- 
tion to  an  end,  and  taught  in  relation  to  the  end.  The  distinction  is 
ultimately  an  ethical  one  because  it  relates  not  to  anything  found  in 
the  study  from  a  purely  intellectual  or  logical  point  of  view,  but  to 
the  studies  considered  from  the  standpoint  of  the  ways  in  which  they 
develop  a  consciousness  of  the  nature  of  social  life,  in  which  the  child 
is  to  live. 

I  take  up  the  discussion  first  from  the  side  of  content.  The  conten- 
tion is  that  a  study  is  to  be  considered  as  bringing  the  child  to  realiz 
the  social  scene  of  action ;  that  when  thus  considered  it  gives  a  criterion 
for  the  selection  of  material  and  for  the  judgment  of  value.  At 
present,  as  already  suggested,  we  have  three  independent  values  set 
up :  one  of  culture,  another  of  information,  and  another  of  discipline. 
In  reality  these  refer  only  to  three  phases  of  social  interpretation. 
Information  is  genuine  or  educative  only  in  so  far  as  it  effects  definite 
images  and  conceptions  of  material  placed  in  social  life.  Discipline  is 
genuine  and  educative  only  as  it  represents  a  reaction  of  the  informa- 
tion into  the  individual's  own  powers  so  that  he  can  bring  them  under 
control  for  social  ends.  Culture,  if  it  is  to  be  genuine  and  educative, 
and  not  an  external  polish  or  factitious  varnish,  represents  the  vital 
union  of  information  and  discipline.  It  designates  the  socialization 
of  the  individual  in  his  whole  outlook  upon  life  and  mode  of  dealing 
with  it. 

This  abstract  point  may  be  illustrated  briefly  by  reference  to  a  few 
of  the  school  studies.  In  the  first  place,  there  is  no  line  of  demarca- 
tion within  facts  themselves  which  classifies  them  as  belonging  to 
science,  history  or  geography,  respectively.  The  pigeonhole  classifi- 
cation which  is  so  prevalent  at  present  (fostered  by  introducing  the 
pupil  at  the  outset  into  a  number  of  different  studies  contained  in 


did 

en- 
ize 
ion 


SOCIAL  ATMOSPHERE  AND   THE   LEARNING   PROCESS     371 

different  textbooks)  gives  an  utterly  erroneous  idea  of  the  relations 
of  studies  to  each  other,  and  to  the  intellectual  whole  to  which  they 
all  belong.  In  fact,  these  subjects  have  all  to  do  with  the  same  ulti- 
mate reality,  namely,  the  conscious  experience  of  man.  It  is  only 
because  we  have  different  interests,  or  different  ends,  that  we  sort  out 
the  material  and  label  part  of  it  science,  part  history,  part  geography, 
and  so  on.  Each  of  these  subjects  represents  an  arrangement  of 
materials  with  reference  to  some  one  dominant  or  typical  aim  or 
process  of  the  social  life. 

This  social  criterion  is  necessary  not  only  to  mark  off  the  studies 
from  each  other,  but  also  to  grasp  the  reasons  for  the  study  of  each 
and  the  motives  in  connection  with  which  it  should  be  presented. 
How,  for  example,  shall  we  define  geography?  What  is  the  unity  in 
the  different  so-called  divisions  of  geography  —  as  mathematical 
geography,  physical  geography,  political  geography,  commercial 
geography?  Are  these  purely  empirical  classifications  dependent 
upon  the  brute  fact  that  we  run  across  a  lot  of  different  facts  which 
cannot  be  connected  with  one  another,  or  is  there  some  reason  why 
they  are  all  called  geography,  and  is  there  some  intrinsic  principle 
upon  which  the  material  is  distributed  under  these  various  heads  ?  I 
understand  by  intrinsic  not  something  which  attaches  to  the  objec- 
tive facts  themselves,  for  the  facts  do  not  classify  themselves,  but 
something  in  the  interest  and  attitude  of  the  human  mind  towards 
them.  This  is  a  large  question,  and  it  would  take  an  essay  longer 
than  this  entire  paper  adequately  to  answer  it.  I  raise  the  question 
partly  to  indicate  the  necessity  of  going  back  to  more  fundamental 
principles  if  we  are  to  have  any  real  philosophy  of  education,  and 
partly  to  afford,  in  my  answer,  an  illustration  of  the  principle  of  social 
interpretation.  I  should  say  that  geography  has  to  do  with  all  those 
aspects  of  social  life  which  are  concerned  with  the  interaction  of  the 
life  of  man  and  nature ;  or,  that  it  has  to  do  with  the  world  considered 
as  the  scene  of  social  interaction.  Any  fact,  then,  will  be  a  geo- 
graphical fact  in  so  far  as  it  bears  upon  the  dependence  of  man  upon 
his  natural  environment,  or  with  the  changes  introduced  in  this 
environment  through  the  life  of  man. 

The  four  forms  of  geography  referred  to  above  represent,  then,  four 
increasing  stages  of  abstraction  in  discussing  the  mutual  relation  of 
human  life  and  nature.  The  beginning  must  be  the  commercial 
geography.  I  mean  by  this  that  the  essence  of  any  geographical  fact 
is  the  consciousness  of  two  persons,  or  two  groups  of  persons,  who 
are  at  once  separated  and  connected  by  physical  environment,  and 
that  the  interest  is  in  seeing  how  these  people  are  at  once  kept  apart 
and  brought  together  in  their  actions  by  the  instrumentality  of  this 
physical  environment.  The  ultimate  significance  of  lake,  river, 


372  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

mountain,  and  plain  is  not  physical,  but  social ;  it  is  the  part  which 
it  plays  in  modifying  and  functioning  human  relationship.  This  evi- 
dently involves  an  extension  of  the  term  commercial.  It  has  not  to 
do  simply  with  business,  in  the  narrow  sense,  but  includes  whatever 
relates  to  human  intercourse  and  intercommunication  as  affected  by 
natural  forms  and  properties.  Political  geography  represents  this 
same  social  interaction  taken  in  a  static  instead  of  in  a  dynamic  way ; 
takes  it,  that  is,  as  temporarily  crystallized  and  fixed  in  certain  forms. 
Physical  geography  (including  under  this  not  simply  physiography, 
but  also  the  study  of  flora  and  fauna)  represents  a  further  analysis  or 
abstraction.  It  studies  the  conditions  which  determine  human 
action,  leaving  out  of  account,  temporarily,  the  ways  in  which  they 
concretely  do  this.  Mathematical  geography  simply  carries  the 
analysis  back  to  more  ultimate  and  remote  conditions,  showing  that 
the  physical  conditions  themselves  are  not  ultimate,  but  depend 
upon  the  place  which  the  world  occupies  in  a  larger  system.  Here, 
in  other  words,  we  have  traced,  step  by  step,  the  links  which  conned 
the  immediate  social  occupations  and  interactions  of  man  back  to 
the  whole  natural  system  which  ultimately  conditioned  them.  Step 
by  step  the  scene  is  enlarged  and  the  image  of  what  enters  into  th< 
make-up  of  social  action  is  widened  and  broadened,  but  at  no  tim 
ought  the  chain  of  connection  to  be  broken. 

It  is  out  of  the  question  to  take  up  the  studies  one  by  one  and  sho 
that  their  meaning  is  similarly  controlled  by  social  consideration 
But  I  cannot  forbear  a  word  or  two  upon  history.  History  is  vi 
or  dead  to  the  child  according  as  it  is  or  is  not  presented  from  the 
sociological  standpoint.  When  treated  simply  as  a  record  of  what 
has  passed  and  gone,  it  must  be  mechanical  because  the  past,  as  the 
past,  is  remote.  It  no  longer  has  existence  and  simply  as  past  there 
is  no  motive  for  attending  to  it.  The  ethical  value  of  history  teach- 
ing will  be  measured  by  the  extent  to  which  it  is  treated  as  a  matter 
of  analysis  of  existing  social  relations  —  that  is  to  say,  as  affording 
insight  into  what  makes  up  the  structure  and  working  of  society. 

This  relation  of  history  to  comprehension  of  existing  social  forces 
is  apparent  whether  we  take  it  from  the  standpoint  of  social  order 
or  from  that  of  social  progress.  Existing  social  structure  is  exceed- 
ingly complex.  It  is  practically  impossible  for  the  child  to  attack  it 
en  masse  and  get  any  definite  mental  image  of  it.  But  type  phases  of 
historical  development  may  be  selected  which  will  exhibit,  as  through 
a  telescope,  the  essential  constituents  of  the  existing  order.  Greece, 
for  example,  represents  what  art  and  the  growing  power  of  individual 
expression  stands  for;  Rome  exhibits  the  political  elements  and 
determining  forces  of  political  life  on  a  tremendous  scale.  Or,  as 
these  civilizations  are  themselves  relatively  complex,  a  study  of  still 


SOCIAL  ATMOSPHERE  AND  THE  LEARNING  PROCESS    373 

simpler  forms  of  hunting,  nomadic  and  agricultural  life  in  the  begin- 
nings of  civilization ;  a  study  of  the  effects  of  the  introduction  of  iron, 
iron  tools  and  so  forth  serves  to  reduce  the  existing  complexity  to  its 
simple  elements. 

One  reason  historical  teaching  is  usually  not  more  effective  is  the 
fact  that  the  student  is  set  to  acquire  information  in  such  a  way  that 
no  epochs  or  factors  stand  out  to  his  mind  as  typical ;  everything  is 
reduced  to  the  same  dead  level.  The  only  way  of  securing  the  neces- 
sary perspective  is  by  relating  the  past  to  the  present,  as  if  the  past 
were  a  projected  present  in  which  all  the  elements  are  enlarged. 

The  principle  of  contrast  is  as  important  as  that  of  similarity. 
Because  the  present  life  is  so  close  to  us,  touching  us  at  every  point, 
we  cannot  get  away  from  it  to  see  it  as  it  really  is.  Nothing  stands 
out  clearly  or  sharply  as  characteristic.  In  the  study  of  past  periods 
attention  necessarily  attaches  itself  to  striking  differences.  Thus  the 
child  gets  a  locus  in  imagination,  through  which  he  can  remove  him- 
self from  the  present  pressure  of  surrounding  circumstance  and  define  it. 

History  is  equally  available  as  teaching  the  methods  of  social  progress. 
It  is  commonly  stated  that  history  must  be  studied  from  the  stand- 
point of  cause  and  effect.  The  truth  of  this  statement  depends  upon 
its  interpretation.  Social  life  is  so  complex  and  the  various  parts  of 
it  are  so  organically  related  to  each  other  and  to  the  natural  environ- 
ment that  it  is  impossible  to  say  that  this  or  that  thing  is  the  cause  of 
some  other  particular  thing.  But  what  the  study  of  history  can 
effect  is  to  reveal  the  main  instruments  in  the  way  of  discoveries, 
inventions,  new  modes  of  life,  etc.,  which  have  initiated  the  great 
epochs  of  social  advance,  and  it  can  present  to  the  child's  conscious- 
ness type  illustrations  of  the  main  lines  in  which  social  progress  has 
been  made  most  easily  and  effectively  and  can  set  before  him  what 
the  chief  difficulties  and  obstructions  have  been.  Progress  is  always 
rhythmic  in  its  nature,  and  from  the  side  of  growth  as  well  as  from 
that  of  status  or  order  it  is  important  that  the  epochs  which  are 
typical  should  be  selected.  This  once  more  can  be  done  only  in  so 
far  as  it  is  recognized  that  social  forces  in  themselves  are  always  the 
same  —  that  the  same  kind  of  influences  were  at  work  one  hundred 
and  one  thousand  years  ago  that  are  now  —  and  treating  the  par- 
ticular historical  epochs  as  affording  illustrations  of  the  way  in  which 
the  fundamental  forces  work. 

Everything  depends,  then,  upon  history  being  treated  from  a  social 
standpoint,  as  manifesting  the  agencies  which  have  influenced  social 
development,  and  the  typical  institutions  in  which  social  life  has 
expressed  itself.  The  culture-epoch  theory,  while  working  in  the 
right  direction,  has  failed  to  recognize  the  importance  of  treating 
past  periods  with  relation  to  the  present  —  that  is,  as  affording  insight 


374  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

into  the  representative  factors  of  its  structure ;  it  has  treated  these 
periods  too  much  as  if  they  had  some  meaning  or  value  in  themselves. 
The  way  in  which  the  biographical  method  is  handled  illustrates  the 
same  point.  It  is  often  treated  in  such  a  way  as  to  exclude  from  the 
child's  consciousness  (or  at  least  not  sufficiently  to  emphasize)  the 
social  forces  and  principles  involved  in  the  association  of  the  masses 
of  men.  It  is  quite  true  that  the  child  is  interested  easily  in  history 
from  the  biographical  standpoint;  but  unless  the  hero  is  treated  in 
relation  to  the  community  life  behind  him  which  he  both  sums  up 
and  directs,  there  is  danger  that  the  history  will  reduce  itself  to  a 
mere  story.  When  this  is  done,  moral  instruction  reduces  itself  to 
drawing  certain  lessons  from  the  life  of  the  particular  personalities 
concerned,  instead  of  having  widened  and  deepened  the  child's  imagi- 
native consciousness  of  the  social  relationships,  ideals  and  means 
involved  in  the  world  in  which  he  lives. 

There  is  some  danger,  I  presume,  in  simply  presenting  the  illus- 
trations without  more  development,  but  I  hope  it  will  be  remembered 
that  I  am  not  making  these  points  for  their  own  sake,  but  with  refer- 
ence to  the  general  principle  that  when  history  is  taught  as  a  mode 
of  understanding  social  life,  it  has  positive  ethical  import.  What 
the  normal  child  continuously  needs  is  not  so  much  isolated  moral 
lessons  instilling  in  him  the  importance  of  truthfulness  and  honesty, 
or  the  beneficent  results  that  follow  from  some  particular  act  of 
patriotism,  etc.  It  is  the  formation  of  habits  of  social  imagination 
and  conception.  I  mean  by  this  it  is  necessary  that  the  child  should 
be  forming  the  habit  of  interpreting  the  special  incidents  that  occur 
and  the  particular  situations  that  present  themselves  in  terms  of  the 
whole  social  life.  The  evils  of  the  present  industrial  and  political 
situation,  on  the  ethical  side,  are  not  due  so  much  to  actual  perverse- 
ness  on  the  part  of  individuals  concerned,  nor  to  mere  ignorance  of 
what  constitutes  the  ordinary  virtues  (such  as  honesty,  industry, 
purity,  etc.)  as  to  inability  to  appreciate  the  social  environment  in 
which  we  live.  It  is  tremendously  complex  and  confused.  Only  a 
mind  trained  to  grasp  social  situations,  and  to  reduce  them  to  their 
simpler  and  typical  elements,  can  get  sufficient  hold  on  the  realities 
of  this  life  to  see  what  sort  of  action,  critical  and  constructive,  it 
really  demands.  Most  people  are  left  at  the  mercy  of  tradition, 
impulse  or  the  appeals  of  those  who  have  special  and  class  interests 
to  serve.  In  relation  to  this  highly  complicated  social  environment, 
training  for  citizenship  is  formal  and  nominal  unless  it  develops  the 
power  of  observation,  analysis  and  inference  with  respect  to  what 
makes  up  a  social  situation  and  the  agencies  through  which  it  is 
modified.  Because  history  rightly  taught  is  the  chief  instrumentality 
for  accomplishing  this,  it  has  an  ultimate  ethical  value. 


SOCIAL  ATMOSPHERE  AND   THE  LEARNING  PROCESS    375 

I  have  been  speaking  so  far  of  the  school  curriculum  on  the  side 
of  its  content.  I  now  turn  to  that  of  form,  understanding  by  this 
term,  as  already  explained,  a  consciousness  of  the  instruments  and 
methods  which  are  necessary  to  the  control  of  social  movements. 
Studies  cannot  be  classified  into  form  studies  and  content  studies. 
Every  study  has  both  sides.  That  is  to  say,  it  deals  both  with  the 
actual  make-up  of  society,  and  is  concerned  with  the  tools  or  ma- 
chinery by  which  society  maintains  itself.  Language  and  literature 
best  illustrate  the  impossibility  of  separation.  Through  the  ideas 
contained  in  language,  the  continuity  of  the  social  structure  is  effected. 
From  this  standpoint  the  study  of  literature  is  a  content  study.  But 
language  is  also  distinctly  a  means,  a  tool.  It  not  simply  has  social 
value  in  itself,  but  is  a  social  instrument.  However,  in  some  studies 
one  side  or  the  other  predominates  very  much,  and  in  this  sense  we 
may  speak  of  specifically  form  studies;  as  for  example,  mathematics. 

My  illustrative  proposition  at  this  point  is  that  mathematics  does, 
or  does  not,  accomplish  its  full  ethical  purpose  according  as  it  is  pre- 
sented, or  not  presented,  as  such  a  social  tool.  The  prevailing  divorce 
between  information  and  character,  between  knowledge  and  social 
action,  stalks  upon  the  scene  here.  The  moment  mathematical  study 
is  severed  from  the  place  which  it  occupies  with  reference  to  use  in 
social  life,  it  becomes  unduly  abstract,  even  from  the  purely  intellec- 
tual side.  It  is  presented  as  a  matter  of  technical  relations  and 
formulae  apart  from  any  end  or  use.  What  the  study  of  numbers 
suffers  from  in  elementary  education  is  the  lack  of  motivation.  Back 
of  this  and  that  and  the  other  particular  bad  method  is  the  radical 
mistake  of  treating  number  as  if  it  were  an  end  in  itself  instead  of  as 
a  means  of  accomplishing  some  end.  Let  any  child  get  a  conscious- 
ness of  what  the  use  of  number  is,  of  what  it  really  is  for,  and  half 
the  battle  is  won.  Now  this  consciousness  of  the  use  or  reason  im- 
plies some  active  end  in  view  which  is  always  implicitly  social,  since 
it  involves  the  production  of  something  which  may  be  of  use  to  others, 
and  which  is  often  explicitly  social. 

One  of  the  absurd  things  in  the  more  advanced  study  of  arithmetic 
is  the  extent  to  which  the  child  is  introduced  to  numerical  operations 
which  have  no  distinctive  mathematical  principles  characterizing 
them,  but  which  represent  certain  general  principles  found  in  business 
relationships.  To  train  the  child  in  these  operations,  while  paying 
no  attention  to  the  business  realities  in  which  they  will  be  of  use, 
and  the  conditions  of  social  life  which  make  these  business  activities 
necessary,  is  neither  arithmetic  nor  common  sense.  The  child  is 
called  upon  to  do  examples  in  interest,  partnership,  banking,  broker- 
age, and  so  on  through  a  long  string,  and  no  pains  are  taken  to  see 
that,  in  connection  with  the  arithmetic,  he  has  any  sense  of  the  social 


376  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

realities  involved.  This  part  of  arithmetic  is  essentially  sociological  in  its 
nature.  It  ought  either  to  be  omitted  entirely  or  else  taught  in  connec- 
tion with  a  study  of  the  relevant  social  realities.  As  we  now  manage  the 
study,  it  is  the  old  case  of  learning  to  swim  apart  from  the  water  over 
again,  with  correspondingly  bad  results  on  the  practical  and  ethical  side. 

I  am  afraid  one  question  still  haunts  the  reader.  What  has  all 
this  discussion  about  geography,  history  and  number,  whether  from 
the  side  of  content  or  that  of  form,  got  to  do  with  the  underlying 
principles  of  education?  The  very  reasons  which  induce  the  reader 
to  put  this  question  to  himself,  even  in  a  half-formed  way,  illustrate 
the  point  which  I  am  trying  to  make.  Our  conceptions  of  the  ethical 
in  education  have  been  too  narrow,  too  formal  and  too  pathological. 
We  have  associated  the  term  " ethical"  with  certain  special  acts  which 
are  labeled  virtues  and  set  off  from  the  mass  of  other  acts,  and  still 
more  from  the  habitual  images  and  motives  in  the  agents  perform- 
ing them.  Moral  instruction  is  thus  associated  with  teaching  about 
these  particular  virtues,  or  with  instilling  certain  sentiments  in  regard 
to  them.  The  ethical  has  been  conceived  in  too  goody-goody  a  way. 
But  it  is  not  such  ethical  ideas  and  motives  as  these  which  keep  men 
at  work  in  recognizing  and  performing  their  moral  duty.  Such 
teaching  as  this,  after  all  is  said  and  done,  is  external;  it  does  not 
reach  down  into  the  depths  of  the  character-making  agency.  Ulti- 
mate moral  motives  and  forces  are  nothing  more  or  less  than  social 
intelligence  —  the  power  of  observing  and  comprehending  social  situa- 
tions —  and  social  power  —  trained  capacities  of  control  —  at  work 
in  the  service  of  social  interest  and  aims.  There  is  no  fact  which  throws 
light  upon  the  constitution  of  society;  there  is  no  power  whose  train- 
ing adds  to  social  resourcefulness  which  is  not  ethical  in  its  bearing. 

I  sum  up,  then,  by  asking  attention  to  the  moral  trinity  of  the 
school.  The  demand  is  for  social  intelligence,  social  power  and 
social  interests.  Our  resources  are  (i)  the  life  of  the  school  as  a 
social  institution  in  itself;  (2)  methods  of  learning  and  of  doing 
work ;  and  (3)  the  school  studies  or  curriculum.  In  so  far  as  the 
school  represents,  in  its  own  spirit,  a  genuine  community  life;  in  so 
far  as  what  are  called  school  discipline,  government,  order,  etc.,  are 
the  expressions  of  this  inherent  social  spirit;  in  so  far  as  the  methods 
used  are  those  which  appeal  to  the  active  and  constructive  powers, 
permitting  the  child  to  give  out,  and  thus  to  serve ;  in  so  far  as  the 
curriculum  is  so  selected  and  organized  as  to  provide  the  material 
for  affording  the  child  a  consciousness  of  the  world  in  which  he  has 
to  play  a  part,  and  the  relations  he  has  to  meet ;  in  so  far  as  these 
ends  are  met,  the  school  is  organized  on  an  ethical  basis. 

J.  Dewey.     Extracts  from   "  Ethical  Principles  underlying  Education,"  in  The 
Third  Yearbook  of  the  National  H&rbart  Society. 


SOCIAL  ATMOSPHERE  AND  THE  LEARNING   PROCESS     377 

Social  Significance  of  Self-organized  Group  Work 

There  is  something  of  a  contrast  between  the  biological  organism 
and  the  organization  of  individuals  called  society.  In  the  body  the 
cell  unit  is,  for  the  most  part,  permanent  in  place  and  hereditarily 
fixed  in  function.  With  the  higher  animals  substitution  of  function 
among  the  different  parts  is  very  rare,  and  most  apparent  in  the  brain, 
which  is  the  organ  immediately  subserving  social  action.  The  case 
is  quite  different  in  all  highly  developed  societies.  Here  individuals 
move  freely  from  one  position  to  another,  and  constantly  change  their 
roles,  sometimes  to  a  very  great  extent.  For  America  especially,  this 
feature  is  fundamental  and  characteristic.  The  successful  mule  driver 
of  to-day  may  be  the  successful  President  of  to-morrow.  Every  kind 
of  equality  of  opportunity  for  each  and  all  is,  as  we  are  never  tired  of 
saying,  the  presupposition  and  the  aim  of  democracy. 

Such  interchange  or  development  of  social  function  is  impossible 
without  the  greatest  plasticity  on  the  part  of  individuals.  This 
plasticity,  however,  while  it  has  a  biological  basis,  is  useful  only  as  it 
is  played  upon  by  society.  Habits  of  social  action,  not  so  permanent 
that  they  may  not  be  changed  if  occasion  demands,  must  be  formed 
and  used  in  building  up  the  structure  of  society.  The  social  situation 
in  which  a  person  finds  himself,  or  the  group  with  which  he  is  in  con- 
tact, has  thus  the  most  to  do  with  his  role  or  function  in  society  and 
his  success  in  life.  The  family  in  which  the  average  individual  is 
brought  up  has  usually  even  more  to  do  with  his  serviceableness  to 
society  than  the  one  in  which  he  is  born.  No  doubt  the  possibilities 
must  be  latent  in  the  individual,  but  different  grouping  with  quite 
similar  material  produces  entirely  different  results. 

If,  then,  we  are  to  educate  the  children  of  democracy,  it  is  the  nature 
of  the  groups  in  which  they  work,  the  varying  constitution  and  de- 
velopment of  these,  and  the  repercussion  of  them  on  the  constituent 
individuals,  which  form  the  most  important  element  in  the  process. 

The  group  or  society  of  which  the  teacher  aims  to  be  the  leader  and 
inspirer  from  a  social  standpoint  is  usually  more  or  less  of  a  mere 
aggregate,  rather  than  an  organization.  There  is  every  reason  why  the 
teacher  should  aim  to  organize  this  aggregate.  In  no  other  way  can  he 
become  really  the  leader.  When  this  is  not  done,  the  aggregate  does 
not  remain  in  a  neutral  condition.  Organization  sets  in,  independently 
of  the  teacher.  It  is  not  always  fully  conscious  of  itself,  but  it  is  none 
the  less  influential.  Certain  boys  or  girls  are  looked  to  by  others  for 
guidance,  and  become  centers  of  disturbance.  They  are  watched 
by  the  others  for  indications  as  to  how  far  the  class  as  a  whole  may  go 
in  opposition  to  the  teacher.  Sometimes  there  are  chiefs  for  war 
and  chiefs  for  peace.  When  a  teacher  runs  against  such  a  chief,  it  is 


378  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

no  longer  an  individual  he  is  dealing  with,  and  even  when  he  finds 
fault  with  some  humble  member  of  the  tribe,  unless  the  chief  consents 
to  ignore  or  to  condone  the  treatment  given,  the  teacher  may  meet 
with  as  much  difficulty  and  silent  antagonism  as  if  the  individual  had 
been  socially  important.  The  flag  of  the  tribe  protects  its  feeblest 
member. 

Frequently  more  than  one  such  group  or  clique  can  be  found  in  a 
class,  and  although  there  may  be  some  rivalry,  there  is  usually  a 
status  quo.  Those  not  in  any  group  are  left  over,  either  as  the  teacher's 
pets,  or  as  the  offscouring  of  the  class.  When  groups  have  once 
formed,  the  teacher  who  does  not  realize  it  is  lost.  His  best  resource 
is  in  some  way  to  get  hold  of  the  leaders.  In  old-fashioned  schools 
leadership  was  often  determined  by  actual  fighting.  If  the  teacher 
"  licked  "  the  leader,  he  had  the  rest  of  the  school.  In  modern  city 
schools,  leadership  is  a  good  deal  more  subtle,  and  the  appeal  to  force, 
by  calling  in  the  head  master,  or  by  physical  punishment  for  offenses, 
is  not  very  effective.  The  group  still  remains  loyal,  and  treats  the 
punishment  as  an  act  of  war.  This  is  just  because  such  punishment 
is  not  at  all  a  fight  in  which  personal  address  and  vigor  have  any  part. 
The  teacher,  on  the  contrary,  is  merely  calling  in  the  organized  force 
of  the  community  of  adults  to  which  he  belongs.  This  is  known  to 
be  superior  to  any  form  of  frontal  attack.  Guerrilla  warfare  is  all  that 
is  possible. 

It  is  the  impression  of  the  present  writer,  due  to  a  fairly  wide  ex- 
perience of  schools,  both  in  the  East  and  West,  that  at  least  50  per 
cent  of  the  higher-grade  classes  in  the  public  schools  are,  to  a  greater 
or  less  extent,  in  such  a  state  of  antagonism  to  the  teacher.  This  is 
not  always  carried  so  far  as  to  prevent  a  certain  kind  of  work  from 
being  done.  The  teacher  may  be  respected  as  one  would  respect  an 
officer  of  an  opposing  army,  but  he  is  not  in  any  real  sense  a  leader. 
It  is  also  to  be  noted  that  the  members  of  the  children's  groups,  taken 
individually,  have  usually  nothing  criminal  or  even  unsocial  about 
them.  It  is  the  group  to  which  they  belong,  rather  than  their  own 
personality,  which  determines  their  conduct.  Such  organizations, 
however,  even  when  largely  instinctive  and  unconscious,  are  a  menace 
to  the  best  interests  of  the  children,  who,  no  matter  what  their  achieve- 
ments may  be  in  reading,  writing  and  arithmetic,  are  getting  an  edu- 
cation in  hostility  to  many  of  the  best  things  in  society  as  a  whole. 
In  some  way  the  teacher  must  creep  into  or  break  into  this  child  com- 
munity, if  he  is  to  lead  it  out  of  its  narrowness  and  set  it  on  the  way 
to  a  higher  development. 

Sometimes  the  doors  open  by  accident,  and  the  teacher,  if  he  realizes 
it,  may  enter  naturally.  A  case  told  me  by  a  distinguished  Boston 
educator  of  his  own  experience  when  teacher  of  a  ninth  grade  will 


SOCIAL  ATMOSPHERE   AND  THE   LEARNING  PROCESS    379 

illustrate  this  point.  A  case  of  discipline  had  arisen,  and  the  teacher 
said  to  a  certain  boy,  "  Well,  there  is  no  doubt  that  I  shall  have  to 
punish  you."  The  boy  replied  in  the  presence  of  the  class,  "  Oh,  yes, 
punish  me  ;  you're  always  down  on  me."  This  touched  the  teacher, 
and,  being  human  enough  to  flare  up,  he  said  impulsively  :  "I'll  leave 
it  to  the  rest  if  you  don't  deserve  it.  More  than  that,  I'll  turn  my 
face  to  the  wall,  and  they  can  vote  without  my  seeing  them,  and  I'll 
never  ask  a  boy  how  he  has  voted."  The  vote  was  reported  to  the 
teacher  as  unanimously  in  favor  of  the  boy's  being  punished.  At 
this  point  the  boy  broke  down  completely,  and  through  his  tears  said, 
"  Well,  it  must  be  right,  since  everybody  says  so." 

The  interesting  and  significant  feature  of  this  experience  is  the  effect 
of  the  class  sentiment  on  the  boy.  His  attitude  of  defiance  in  the  first 
place  was  evidently  conditioned  by  his  thought  that  the  class  was 
back  of  him ;  and,  indeed,  so  it  might  have  been  but  for  the  action  of 
the  teacher.  The  case  throws  a  strong  light  on  the  real  nature  of 
punishment.  This  is  never  the  mere  infliction  of  pain  or  other  incon- 
venience. With  a  desirable  social  backing  boys  are  proud  of  these 
signs  of  prowess.  Although  they  may  suffer,  and  sometimes  give  vent 
to  the  natural  expression  of  their  suffering,  they  are  no  more  guided 
by  this  in  their  future  action  than  is  a  martyr  on  the  rack.  Punish- 
ment is  the  disapproval  and  repression  of  the  group  one  feels  he  be- 
longs to.  Nothing  else  is  punishment.  It  may  sometimes  require 
a  rite  or  ceremony  like  the  administration  of  pain  to  make  it  under- 
stood and  to  show  that  it  is  serious,  but  it  is  the  spirit  of  exclusion  which 
is  the  reality  back  of  this  physical  expression.  Indeed,  the  infliction 
of  some  more  or  less  revengeful  pain  often  has  the  effect  of  reconcile- 
ment. By  this  act  the  community  still  remains  in  contact  with  its 
recalcitrant  member.  It  puts  him  in  a  position  where  his  fellows  ob- 
serve him  closely.  He  is  the  central  figure  of  the  tragedy.  The  others 
watch  him  and  imagine  how  he  is  feeling.  If  he  acts  in  such  a  way 
as  to  awaken  sympathy  either  by  heroism  or  by  more  or  less  dignified 
humility  and  repentance,  the  hate  of  the  community  generally  turns 
to  a  degree  of  admiration,  and  the  punishment  is  over.  Capital 
punishment,  unless  where  the  imagination  carries  the  drama  into  the 
next  world,  is  thus  the  only  form  which  is  quite  hopeless  from  this  stand- 
point. 

When  a  teacher  administers  punishment  or  reproof,  it  is  absolutely 
necessary  that  he  carry  with  him  the  best  sentiment  of  the  class.  He 
can  do  this  on  ordinary  occasions,  at  least,  only  if  the  punishment 
be  applied  to  prevent  hindrances,  not  to  such  activities  as  the  teacher 
thinks  are  desirable,  but  to  those  which  the  class  can  be  made  sincerely 
to  approve.  To  get  in  sight  of  the  solution  of  such  a  problem,  no  mere 
knowledge  of  individuals  as  such,  or  course  of  study,  however  excellent, 


380  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

will  ever  suffice.  It  is  the  social  action  of  the  class,  the  nature  of  the 
groups  really  at  work,  their  aims  and  ideals,  their  leadership  and 
organization,  which  the  teacher  must  find  an  opportunity  to  study,  and, 
if  possible,  to  modify  or  control. 

The  most  reasonable  way  out  of  the  difficulties  we  have  described 
would  seem  to  be,  not  to  hand  over  the  strictly  governmental  functions 
to  the  children,  although  this  may  sometimes  partially  succeed,  but 
to  make  some  suitable  opportunity  in  the  regular  work  of  the  school 
for  real  leadership  and  organization  on  their  part.  If  this  phase  of 
work  is  to  exclude  the  use  of  force,  it  must  find  an  opening  into  the 
course  of  study.  It  must  not  be  relegated  to  off  days,  Friday  after- 
noons, or  to  the  home  or  the  street,  but  must  be  represented  on  the 
time-table.  As  we  have  seen,  the  leadership  of  the  antagonistic  class 
groups  does  not  depend  much,  in  modern  city  schools  at  least,  on  the 
use  of  force.  These  groups  are  attractive  enough  to  hold  themselves 
together  without  it.  If,  now,  we  can  bring  out  the  leadership  involved 
in  these  mistaken  efforts  of  the  children,  and  use  the  force  at  the  dis- 
posal of  the  teacher  to  foster  and  protect  the  organizations  that  would 
be  formed,  the  class  would  get  a  lively  sense  of  the  benefits  springing 
from  the  teacher's  power,  and  would  be  more  disposed  to  admit  its 
use  on  other  occasions.  The  leaders  themselves  would  get  an  op 
portunity  for  a  full  swing,  and  they  would  get  this  in  the  presence  o 
the  teacher,  and  with  his  approbation  and  consent.  The  teacher 
might,  to  some  extent,  become  a  follower  in  some  groups,  and  offer 
advice  and  opinions  which  might  not  always  be  accepted  by  the  leader 

Indeed,  if  this  did  not  sometimes  happen,  two  alternatives  woul< 
arise.     Either  the  teacher  would  stand  off  and  merely  observe  at  a 
distance  the  operations  of  the  group,  or  there  would  be  a  feeling  on  the 
part  of  the  children  that  the  teacher  after  all  was  the  real  leader  o 
the  group.    Both  of  these  alternatives  would  be  fatal  to  this  phase 
of  education.     The  teacher  needs  to  get  into  the  groups  as  much  as 
possible,  but  by  no  means  as  an  authoritative  leader  or  organizer 
His  advice  must  have  no  more  weight  than  its  evident  good  sense 
and  its  capability  of  furthering  the  real  interests  of  the  children  wil 
afford.     When  the  class  reverts  to  the  previous  condition  of  affairs 
and  when  the  teacher  becomes  again  the  director,  he  will  have  an 
entirely  different  community  to  deal  with.     Not  only  will  he  have 
discovered  some  of  the  natural  leaders  (and  who  they  are  may  often 
be  a  surprise  to  him),  but  he  will  have  been  able  to  learn  a  good  dea 
about  how  the  followers  are  influenced.     Best  of  all,  he  will  be  regardec 
by  the  leaders  as  one  of  themselves.     If  he  is  broad  enough  to  allow 
his  newly  acquired  experience  to  modify  his  old  habits,   they  wil 
be  disposed  to  study  his  methods  of  leadership  rather  than  to  continue 
to  waste  energy  in  warfare.    They  remain  conscious  of  the  power  in 


SOCIAL  ATMOSPHERE  AND   THE  LEARNING  PROCESS    381 

them,  which  is  shortly  again  to  have  opportunity  for  exercise  and  dis- 
play. Under  such  conditions  the  latent,  underground  kind  of  organiza- 
tion may  find  a  normal  outlet,  an  opportunity  to  become  more  con- 
scious and  progressive,  and  at  the  same  time  it  may  provide  the 
teacher  with  a  natural  opening  into  the  heart  of  the  children's  social 
life. 

As  will  be  seen,  it  is  not  a  revolutionary  or  radical  change  of  all 
school  procedure  which  the  introduction  of  self -organized  purpose 
groups  would  bring  about.  Such  a  change  means  rather  a  conserva- 
tion and  development  of  the  educational  values  that  are  already  to 
be  found  in  the  real  leadership  of  the  teacher,  although  leadership  on 
the  part  of  many  of  the  students  would  also  be  made  possible. 

It  might  be  asked,  though  hardly  by  practical  people,  why,  if  a 
given  attitude  or  relationship  between  pupil  and  teacher  is  a  good  and 
social  thing  for  one  part  of  the  day,  something  different  is  needed  for 
another;  or,  if  a  teacher  can  catch  the  spirit  of  true  leadership  which 
makes  room  for  all  the  children  as  active  and  constructive  followers, 
why  he  should  not  continue  to  lead  throughout.  This  true  leadership 
is  of  course  excellent,  but  it  will  come  much  more  surely  and  naturally 
as  a  result  of  the  observation  of  children's  independent  groups  than 
it  ever  can  without  them.  For  the  very  lowest  grades,  however,  such 
an  attitude  is  probably  all  that  can  be  expected.  But,  as  we  have 
already  tried  to  show,  the  true  constructive  power  of  a  follower  can- 
not be  measured  when  he  is  under  the  direction  of  another,  nor  is  it  to 
be  expected  in  a  democratic  society  that  leadership  should  be  confined 
to  one  or  a  few.  We  often  hear  that  he  who  would  command  must 
first  learn  to  obey.  Nothing  could  be  truer,  except  its  converse, 
that  he  who  would  obey  in  spirit  and  in  truth  must  also  know  how  to 
command.  There  is  no  individual  in  a  democratic  community  who 
has  not  found  it  necessary,  on  occasion,  to  direct  others.  This  direc- 
tion may  not  apply  to  many  at  a  time,  and  it  may  not  be  for  long,  but 
when  the  opportunity  comes,  much  more  depends  upon  his  action  than 
when  he  played  a  follower's  role.  At  present  our  society  suffers  more 
from  the  lack  of  true  leadership,  and  the  kind  of  insight  and  morality 
necessary  for  such  a  function,  than  from  any  other  fault.  The  leader 
is  so  scarce  that  an  undue  premium  is  placed  upon  him.  This  shows 
itself  strikingly  in  commerce  as  in  politics,  where  the  wage  of  even 
blundering  leaders  forms  an  enormous  tax  upon  the  community. 

With  greater  practical  experience  and  insight  into  what  leadership 
really  means,  we  may  hope  to  produce  more  competent  leaders  to  select 
from  and  more  intelligent  followers  to  select  them.  Besides  being 
a  test  and  measure  of  the  capacity  of  the  social  work  of  the  teacher 
to  live  and  maintain  itself  when  his  direction  is  removed,  the  self- 
organized  group  ought  to  afford  a  direct  means  of  education  designed 


382  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

to  touch  the  democratic  problem  at  the  point  of  its  culminating  service 
to  the  community  at  large. 

The  reader  has  now  before  him  some  of  the  social  needs  which 
free,  self -organized  work  would  go  far  toward  satisfying.  In  each 
of  the  three  schools  studied  in  the  previous  chapters,  we  found  elements 
of  a  high  degree  of  social  value,  and  an  approximate  solution  of  the 
problem  of  educative  social  organization.  Space  prevents  us  from 
studying  other  schools  in  detail,  although  one  of  them  at  least,  the 
Ethical  Culture  School  of  New  York,  founded  by  Felix  Adler,  has 
arrived  under  Mr.  Manny,  its  recent  superintendent,  at  a  high  degree 
of  social  efficiency,  and  would  amply  repay  investigation.  We  must, 
however,  hurry  on  to  the  problem  of  the  average  grade  school  of  the 
times,  and  attempt  to  show  how  it  is  possible,  even  with  crowded 
classes  and  without  special  equipment,  to  obtain  in  the  people's  schools 
those  cooperative  and  self-sustaining  motives  which  are  worthy  of 
democracy  and  best  able  to  measure  the  teacher's  work. 

The  experiences  to  be  described  may  be  called  experiments,  but  not 
in  the  sense  that  they  were  instituted  merely  to  see  how  they  would 
turn  out.  They  were  experiments  simply  in  the  sense  that  all  life 
is  experimental,  and  were  devised  with  the  view  that  the  development 
of  intention  and  resourcefulness  on  the  part  of  the  pupil  is  the  greatest 
and  most  undeniable  duty  of  any  form  of  education.  They  are  not, 
however,  the  outcome  of  any  particular  a  priori  theory  of  either  in- 
dividual or  social  action,  and  they  have,  therefore,  the  character  of 
scientific  data,  from  which  useful  generalizations  may  be  made,  capable 
of  carrying  both  thought  and  practice  into  larger  fields.  The  natural- 
ness of  the  data  is  shown  by  the  fact  that  in  different  schools,  and  in 
the  same  schools  from  year  to  year,  a  given  piece  of  work  is  never 
repeated.  As  some  one  has  said,  "  Constant  change  is  the  unchang- 
ing lay  of  humanity."  Different  conditions  and  different  children 
always  produce  different  results.  There  has  been  nothing  to  justify 
any  expectation  that  we  should  ever  be  able  to  obtain  by  our  experi- 
ments an  ideal  course  of  study  capable  'of  being  handed  over  to  other 
schools.  There  was  no  hope  that  we  should  ever  be  able  to  stereotype 
the  results  in  textbooks  and  fix  them  upon  the  brains  of  a  rising  gen- 
eration. 

The  experiments  naturally  start  from  a  background  of  dictated 
work  derived  from  the  usual  course  of  study,  and  it  was  always  a  con- 
dition that  no  work  was  to  be  permitted,  the  plan  of  which  the  teacher 
did  not  approve ;  although  after  it  was  started  it  might  fail  or  succeed 
without  the  teacher's  stepping  in  to  bolster  it  up  or  to  coerce  its  sup- 
porters. There  never  was  any  likelihood  that  in  the  lowest  grades, 
at  least,  the  children's  self-organized  work  would  absorb  the  whole 
of  the  school  work  or  all  the  time  on  the  program.  Dictated  work 


SOCIAL  ATMOSPHERE  AND  THE  LEARNING  PROCESS    383 

which  the  teacher  leads  directly,  and  courses  of  study,  however  much 
they  may  be  modified,  will  always  be  needed  to  some  extent  in  the 
education  of  the  young. 

Several  years  ago  the  present  writer,  in  cooperation  with  two  third- 
grade  teachers  in  the  Chicago  and  Cook  Country  Normal  School  (Miss 
Margaret  Mclntyre  and  Miss  Jessie  Black),  introduced  the  proposition 
of  self-organized  work  to  their  pupils.  Each  teacher  said  to  her  class, 
with  as  much  simplicity  as  was  possible,  something  like  the  following : 
"  If  you  had  time  given  you  for  something  that  you  enjoy  doing,  and 
that  you  think  worth  while,  what  should  you  choose  to  do?  When 
you  have  decided  how  you  would  spend  the  time,  come  and  tell  me 
about  your  plan.  You  may  come  all  together,  or  in  groups,  or  each 
by  himself ;  but  whatever  you  say  you  want  to  do,  you  must  tell  the 
length  of  time  you  will  need  to  finish  it,  and  how  you  expect  to  do  it." 

We  thus  called  for  a  plan  as  definite  as  possible,  both  as  to  time  and 
materials.  It  was  understood  that  if  the  teacher  could  not  be  con- 
vinced that  the  plan  was  feasible,  or  that  it  was  sufficiently  worth 
while,  she  would  not  allow  it  to  begin. 

At  first  in  one  class  there  was  but  a  single  plan.  This  started  with 
three  boys,  eight  or  nine  years  of  age,  who  said  they  wanted  to  print. 

How  can  you  print?  "  the  teacher  asked.  "  We  have  no  printing 
press."  "  Oh,  yes ;  Harry  here  (the  real  names  are  not  used)  has 
a  press  that  his  father  gave  him  at  Christmas,  and  if  you  will  let  us, 
we'll  print  a  list  of  those  hard  words,  the  names  of  the  days  of  the 
week,  which  you  gave  the  class  to  spell.  We  will  place  a  copy  on  the 
desk  of  every  pupil,  and  you  will  see  how  quickly  they  will  learn  them." 
"  How  long  will  it  take  you?"  the  teacher  inquired.  "  Three,  or 
perhaps  four  half -hours.  We  can  divide  up  the  work  so  that  we  think 
we  can  get  it  done  in  that  time." 

The  teacher  gave  the  period  from  11.30  to  12  on  Monday,  Wednes- 
day and  Friday.  They  chose  the  back  of  the  room  to  work  in, 
and  they  agreed  to  be  as  quiet  as  possible  so  as  not  to  disturb  the  rest 
of  the  class,  which  meanwhile  was  doing  such  work  as  the  boys  could 
best  afford  to  miss.  They  succeeded  admirably,  and  completed  their 
work  within  the  time  specified.  When  they  were  fairly  at  work,  the 
rest  of  the  class  woke  up,  and  the  teacher  was  presented  with  a  number 
of  plans,  many  of  them  of  a  very  mushroom  character,  devised  mainly 
to  escape  the  regular  work  of  that  hour.  But  when  the  teacher  asked 
in  detail  about  the  plans,  how  long  they  would  take  to  finish,  etc., 
these  latter  were  spontaneously  given  up  by  the  children,  or  enlarged  so 
that  they  had  become  more  practical.  After  the  printing  group  had 
finished  their  first  contract,  they  still  kept  together  with  the  idea  of 
becoming  class  printers  when  needed. 

In  the  other  third-grade  class  a  similar  group  was  started,  which 


384  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

soon  took  in  more  boys  who  wanted  to  join.  On  one  occasion  the 
teacher  found  that  they  were  not  doing  what  they  had  planned  for 
that  day.  She  asked  them  what  was  the  matter,  and  pointed  out  that 
if  they  did  not  do  what  they  said  they  would,  they  would  have  to  go 
back  to  their  seats.  They  had  a  little  consultation  among  themselves, 
and  decided  that  there  were  too  many  in  the  group  for  the  work  to  be 
done,  and  that  they  interfered  with  one  another  instead  of  helping. 
The  group  was  thinned  by  its  own  action,  and  the  work  was  finished 
successfully.  This  group  also  kept  on  for  some  time,  and  printed  a 
number  of  things  for  the  class.  Here  is  a  sample  of  their  work:  — 

Criticism  of  Report  of  Group  2  on  Beef  Tea 

The  Group  did  not  know  all  they  should  know  about  it. 
It  was  worth  giving. 

Some  time  after  the  beginning  of  these  groups,  and  when  nearly 
the  whole  class  was  engaged  in  one  or  another  of  them,  Professor 
Albion  Small  paid  them  a  visit.  One  of  the  boys  said  to  him :  "  Look 
at  those  girls  cooking.  Now  I  don't  see  the  good  of  that.  But  this 
work  is  just  the  thing  for  me.  I  am  a  very  poor  speller,  and  every 
word  I  set  up  I  learn  to  spell."  This  group  interested  some  of  the 
families  from  which  the  boys  came,  for  they  were  never  tired  of  talk- 
ing of  it  at  home.  One  of  the  fathers,  although  a  working  man,  con- 
tributed fonts  of  type  to  the  value  of  $15.  Pieces  of  work  were  taker 
home,  and  their  merits  and  defects  fully  criticized.  These  printing 
groups  had  a  leader,  although  he  was  not  given  any  special  name. 

In  one  class  three  cooking  groups  were  started.    The  first  of  thes 
was  started  to  cook  —  "  just  to  eat/'  as  one  of  the  members  state 
It  was  at  first  composed  of  four  girls  and  one  boy.    The  initial  prep 
arations  required  a   good  deal  of  management.    The  mothers  had 
to  be  persuaded  to  give  money  or  material.     One  girl  brought  an  old 
gas  oven,  and  another  a  heater  on  which  it  was  placed ;  also  a  table 
had  to  be  provided,  and  shelves  for  dishes.    An  attachment  had  to  be 
made  in  order  to  use  the  gas.     For  this  the  permission  of  the  princip 
of  the  school  was  required,  and  how  best  to  approach  him  was 
fully  considered  by  the  group.     Books  of  recipes  were  obtained,  anc 
although  the  reading  was   difficult   for  third-grade   pupils,   mud 
reading  was  done  and  the  merits  of  different  recipes  were  discuss 
A  cake  was  finally  decided  upon.     I  was  called  in  as  a  guest  when  the 
cake  was  finished,  and  since  it  was  a  sacrament  of  friendship,  I  did" 
my  best  to  eat  my  piece.     As  we  were  sitting  around,  the  boy  said 
between  his  mouthfuls,  "  It  seems  to  me  this  cake  ain't  as  good  as  it 
ought  to  be."     "  What's  the  matter  with  it?  "  was  the  rather  shar 
retort  of  the  little  girl  who  was  the  leader  of  the  group.    The  boy, 


SOCIAL  ATMOSPHERE   AND   THE  LEARNING   PROCESS     385 

who  was  phlegmatic,  replied  without  a  ruffle,  "  Well,  maybe  it's  the 
butter;  it  might  have  been  butterine."  "  You  bought  the  butter/' 
said  the  little  girl.  The  boy  said  nothing,  but  later  he  went  to  the 
grocery  store  where  he  had  bought  it,  and  asked  if  it  was  butterine. 
The  grocer,  probably  vexed,  said  among  other  things,  "  If  you  don't 
like  the  butter,  perhaps  you'd  better  write  to  the  Health  Department." 
When  the  boy  came  back  to  school,  he  asked  the  teacher,  "  What  is 
the  Health  Department,  and  what  did  the  man  mean  by  saying  I'd 
better  write?  "  The  teacher  told  him,  and  said  that  perhaps  it  would 
be  a  good  thing  to  write. 

This  he  did,  and  got  back  a  sheaf  of  pamphlets.  Most  of  them  were 
too  difficult  for  him,  but  in  one  was  a  marked  passage  telling  how  to 
test  for  butterine  by  noting  the  rate  of  melting.  The  whole  group 
was  so  interested  in  this  that  they  stopped  cooking  and  started  in  on 
the  test  for  butterine.  They  were  quite  successful,  and  they  used  the 
test  on  several  occasions  afterwards. 

By  this  time  they  had  decided  to  keep  all  the  recipes  they  used, 
and  each  made  a  cookbook  for  his  or  her  own  use.  They  obtained 
rubber  stamps  and  "  printed  "  these  recipes,  and  although  it  became 
somewhat  like  drudgery  later  on,  they  insisted  that  no  member  of 
the  group  should  shirk  that  part  of  the  work.  The  experiment  with 
the  butterine  was  also  printed  in  their  cookbooks.  This  is  the  way  it 
ran  (grams  were  used  because  the  children  could  get  no  other  weights 
in  the  school.  The  directions  called  simply  for  equal  weights) : 

Experiment  with  Butterine 

5  grams  butterine  melted  in  66  seconds. 

5  grams  butter  melted  in  60  seconds. 

5  grams  lard  melted  in  39  seconds. 

5  grams  of  tallow  melted  in  629  seconds. 

Test  for  butterine.  Butterine  smells  bad  when  it  melts  because  it 
has  tallow  and  lard  in  it. 

It  sputters  when  it  melts  because  it  has  tallow  in  it.  It  melts  slower 
than  butter. 

Meantime,  the  children  had  seen  in  a  window  a  man  binding  books, 
and  they  thought  that  it  would  be  a  good  plan  to  have  their  cookbooks 
bound.  They  visited  the  bookbinder,  and  he  showed  them  how  to 
stitch  the  leaves  together  and  make  a  stiff  cover.  As  a  consequence 
they  all  bound  their  books,  an  art  which  was  copied  by  some  of  the 
other  groups  that  needed  it. 

After  several  experiments  in  cooking,  the  necessity  of  having  their 
plans  made  the  night  before,  so  that  every  one  would  know  what  to 
bring  for  the  next  day,  was  seen  to  be  so  important  that  the  group 

2C 


386  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

decided  to  have  a  chairman,  whose  duty  it  would  be  to  see  that  this 
was  done.  The  original  leader  was,  without  debate,  made  chairman. 
The  term  "  chairman  "  was  attractive,  and  was  copied  by  some  of 
the  other  groups,  but  in  a  few  cases,  after  being  used,  it  was  discarded, 
the  children  saying :  "  What  do  we  want  a  chairman  for?  Every  one 
knows  what  to  do,  anyway/'  In  the  cooking  group,  however,  the 
chairman  was  a  necessity. 

The  third  or  fourth  thing  that  they  wanted  to  cook  was  Charlotte 
Russe.  When  the  group  assembled  there  were  no  lady  fingers.  These 
were  to  have  been  brought  by  the  boy.  Since  the  cooking  could  not 
be  carried  on  that  day,  the  children  had  to  go  back  to  their  seats  and 
do  some  work  which  the  teacher  outlined  for  them.  They  were  very 
much  vexed  at  the  boy  and  talked  of  asking  him  to  leave  the  group. 
The  boy  said,  however,  that  the  fault  was  not  his,  but  his  mother's. 
His  mother  had  told  him  that  she  was  tired  of  giving  him  money  all 
the  time. 

The  group  then  went  to  the  teacher  about  the  mother  problem. 
They  wanted  her  to  write  to  the  mothers  and  say  that  they  were  to 
send  the  things  the  children  asked  for.  The  teacher  did  not  look  at 
the  question  in  this  light,  and  said  she  did  not  think  that  she  could 
write  to  the  mothers,  since  the  group  work  was  their  own  affair,  in 
which  they  must  depend  upon  themselves.  They  talked  the  matter 
over  again,  and  the  chairman  finally  said :  "  Well,  it  wasn't  Harold's 
fault.  It  never  would  have  happened  if  we  hadn't  let  Harold  bring 
so  many  things  that  cost  money.  For  all  the  things  we  have  cooked 
he  has  brought  more  than  any  of  the  rest  of  us.  What  we  want  to  do 
is  to  get  it  evened  up.  Then  those  who  can't  bring  money  can  bring 
eggs  or  butter  or  sugar,  but  no  one  should  have  to  bring  more  than  his 
share." 

They  perceived  very  clearly  what  they  wanted,  but  they  did  not  see 
the  means  by  which  it  was  to  be  accomplished.  So  they  went  to  the 
teacher  with  the  difficulty.  "  The  recipes,"  they  said,  "  give  things 
by  cupfuls  or  spoonfuls,  while  these  same  things  are  bought  by  the 
pound."  The  teacher  pointed  out  to  them  that  they  could  get,  for 
instance,  a  pound  of  sugar  and  find  out  how  many  cupfuls  were  in  it 
and  then  divide  the  cost  of  the  pound  by  the  number  of  cupfuls.  This 
idea  they  grasped  at  once.  But  after  they  had  got  the  cost  of  material 
by  the  cupful,  they  did  not  see  how  it  could  be  divided  evenly  among 
the  pupils.  The  teacher  again  showed  them  the  simple  averaging  that 
was  necessary,  and  although  averaging  is  not  usually  introduced  into 
the  third  grades,  and  they  were  never  shown  again,  they  used  this 
method  constantly  and  without  errors  throughout  the  rest  of  their 
work.  The  plan  of  the  chairman  to  meet  the  mother  problem  turned 
out  to  be  quite  successful. 


SOCIAL  ATMOSPHERE  AND  THE  LEARNING  PROCESS    387 

This  cooking  group,  as  it  was  first  formed,  was  very  harmonious, 
and  the  resistance  that  they  had  to  overcome  was  almost  wholly  from 
the  outside.  It  was  the  introduction  of  a  new  member  which  started 
friction  and  gave  rise  to  internal  resistances  which  for  a  time  hampered 
the  success  of  the  work.  A  new  pupil  appeared  in  the  grade,  and  as 
she  was  a  merry,  black-eyed  little  thing  with  attractive  ways,  she  had 
an  invitation  to  join  from  every  one  of  the  groups  then  organized. 
Of  all  these  invitations  she  accepted  the  one  from  the  group  that  were 
cooking  "  just  to  eat." 

It  was  not  long  before  trouble  appeared.  Bessy  was  constantly 
forgetting  things.  The  chairman  mothered  her,  pinning  slips  of  paper 
on  her  coat  to  remind  her,  etc.,  all  to  no  purpose.  She  would  lick 
cream  off  spoons,  refuse  to  wash  dishes,  etc.,  and,  since  the  group  were 
now  in  a  little  room  by  themselves,  would  act  noisily,  so  that  the  rest 
of  the  group  were  afraid  that  their  privileges  might  be  withdrawn.  At 
last  they  came  to  the  teacher  and  complained,  asking  her  to  put 
Bessy  out  of  the  group.  The  teacher  said :  "  I  did  not  invite  her,  you 
know,  to  join  your  group;  but  I  am  very  willing  to  do  what  I  can. 
Just  now,  however,  I  have  a  meeting,  and  you'll  have  to  wait  here  an 
hour  till  I  return ;  then  we  can  talk  it  all  over."  When  she  came  back 
the  children  were  gone,  but  on  her  desk  was  a  note  asking  her  to  give 
the  following  papers,  one  from  each  member  of  the  group,  to  Bessy. 

"  I  think  Bessy  talks  too  much  and  I  think  she  plays  round  the  room 
too  much,  and  I  think  she  makes  too  much  noise.  Bessy  did  not  bring 
her  things  while  the  others  did  to  cook  with.  And  she  did  not  stay  to 
print  at  nights  after  school  only  once  or  twice.  She  would  not  help 
wash  the  dishes.  Then  we  told  her  we  would  put  her  out  if  she  did  not 
do  the  work,  and  we  thought  we  could  do  better  without  her.  Then 
she  brought  her  things  and  helped  wash  the  dishes,  but  she  quarreled 
so.  —  L." 

"  I  think  that  Bessy  ought  to  get  out  of  the  group  because  she  wants 
everything.  —  Harold. " 

"  Bessy  plays  tag  and  she  says, '  This  is  mine,  this  is  mine.'  And  she 
is  always  fussing  all  the  time.  I  think  she  ought  to  be  put  out  of  the 
group.  —  M. " 

"  I  think  we  could  get  along  better  in  the  group  without  Bessy  because 
she  talks  too  much,  and  disturbs  us  too  much  and  we  can't  do  so 
much  work.  And  she  wants  to  do  all  the  work  and  no  one  else  to  do 
any  of  the  work ;  she  wants  to  do  all  the  cooking.  I  think  she  should 
be  put  out. —  M." 

"  Bessy  plays  tag  when  we  are  cooking  and  she  is  too  fussy,  and  I 
think  she  talks  too  much  and  too  loud  and  she  is  too  noisy  and  she  is 
always  fussing  and  quarreling  with  the  other  children,  and  I  think  she 
ought  to  be  put  out  of  the  group.  —  B. " 


388  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

"  I  think  Bessy  should  be  put  out  of  the  group  because  she  does  not 
help  in  printing  and  when  we  cook  she  quarrels  with  us.  —  S.  " 

The  papers  were  handed  to  Bessy  as  the  children  had  requested. 
After  reading  them  she  took  up  her  pen  and  wrote  the  following  reply, 
in  which  it  will  be  noted  the  beginning  does  not  hang  very  well  with 
the  admissions  at  the  end. 

"  Well,  what  I  think  about  it,  I  have  always  brought  the  things  they 
told  me  to  bring  and  when  they  told  me  to  print  I  have  always  done  it. 
And  to  the  other  school  we  would  talk  so  loud  and  I  am  so  used  to  it. 
If  they  put  me  back  again  I  would  do  lots  better  than  I  did  before  and 
I  would  bring  the  things  they  would  tell  me  to  and  I  would  bring 
everything  when  they  told  me  to  and  I  would  do  everything. " 

They  did  not,  however,  take  her  back,  nor  was  she  ever  invited  into 
any  other  group  while  she  remained  in  the  school,  a  fact  which  did 
not  seem  to  depress  her  in  the  least.  Her  family  moved  again  before 
the  end  of  the  term,  and  Bessy  departed  with  them. 

The  teacher  asked  the  children  why  they  had  written  the  papers. 
The  chairman  replied  that  if  one  person  told  Bessy  that  the  group  didn't 
want  her  any  more,  she  would  be  mad  with  that  person  (who  probably 
would  have  been  the  chairman),  and  more  than  that,  she  might  cry; 
while  now  there  was  no  one  in  particular  to  be  mad  at,  and  if  she 
wanted  to  cry,  she  could  cry  by  herself. 

To  the  student  of  government  it  is  interesting  to  see  how  the  children 
went  to  the  teacher  when  it  was  a  matter  probably  involving  force. 
They  wished  to  use  the  policeman  power  of  the  teacher  to  insure  Bessy's 
removal.  This,  in  case  of  any  refusal  on  her  part  to  leave,  would  natu- 
rally have  been  exercised.  In  the  same  way  a  clergyman  or  member 
of  a  church  who  is  voted  out  is  compelled  to  respect  this  decision  by 
force  of  law  if  in  no  other  way.  The  law,  however,  stands  outside  of 
the  organization  itself. 

The  method  of  writing  on  serious  occasions  was  copied  by  some  of 
the  other  groups.  The  following  papers  from  another  working  group 
indicate  a  happier  termination. 

1.  li  Mildred  as  chairman.    Mildred  is  not  chairman  and  she  wants  to 
boss  everything.     I  like  her,  but  I  do  not  want  her  to  do  everything.  — 
L." 

2.  "What  we  think  about  Mildred.     I  think  that  Mildred  is  too 
bossy.     I  think  that  we  ought  to  write  to  her  and  tell  her  what  we 
think.     She  made  a  good  chairman  whether  she  bossed  us  or  not,  but 
she  bossed  us  too  much.  —  S." 

Mildred  replies  as  follows :  — 

"  I  think  that  what  Sarah  and  Lila  said  was  all  right.  I  think  that 
we  will  get  along  all  right  now  and  a  good  deal  better.  I  think  that 
the  money  is  fixed.  I  think  that  we  are  going  to  have  a  better  soup." 


SOCIAL  ATMOSPHERE  AND  THE  LEARNING   PROCESS    389 

There  was  no  doubt  that  Mildred  had  been  bossy.  We  wondered 
indeed  that  the  children  had  stood  it  so  long.  After  this  for  a  week 
Mildred  was  a  marvel  of  self-control,  but  it  wore  on  her  and  she  per- 
suaded her  comrades  to  take  turns  in  the  chairmanship.  Neither  of 
them,  however,  had  anything  like  the  natural  executive  ability  of 
Mildred,  and  they  did  not  succeed  so  well.  Nevertheless,  Mildred 
made  no  comment.  When  it  was  her  turn  again,  the  others  asked  her 
to  be  chairman  all  the  time,  and  to  this  she  consented.  She  at  times 
broke  out  in  the  old  ways,  but  the  others  bore  with  it,  and  she  herself 
was  evidently  anxious  to  improve  in  this  respect.  It  can  hardly  be 
doubted  that  all  the  members  of  the  group  had  in  this  experience  a 
real  lesson  in  ethics  much  more  practical  and  persuasive  than  any 
formal  instruction. 

The  third  cooking  group  in  this  room  was  composed  wholly  of  boys. 
They  said :  "  We  don't  want  to  cook  as  these  girls  do.  But  if  any  one 
should  be  sick  in  the  house,  then  we  should  like  to  be  able  to  cook 
something."  In  accordance  with  this,  the  first  thing  they  attempted 
to  cook  was  beef  tea.  They  inquired  into  everything  that  made  the 
beef  tea  nutritious.  They  were  told  that  it  should  not  look  gray  when 
it  was  done,  as  that  shows  that  the  albumen  in  the  meat,  which  is  the 
same  substance  as  the  white  of  an  egg,  has  become  hardened  and  cannot 
be  digested  so  quickly.  They  beat  out  of  pieces  of  meat  some  of  the 
juice  and  compared  it  with  the  white  of  an  egg  at  the  teacher's  sugges- 
tion. They  were  perfectly  free,  however,  not  to  do  this  if  they  did  not 
wish  to.  This  group  did  not  last  as  long  as  the  others,  but  broke  up 
voluntarily,  the  boys  joining  other  groups  formed  for  other  purposes. 

During  the  year  this  class  formed  only  fourteen  groups.  Among 
them  were  a  photograph  group,  a  group  for  modeling  in  clay,  two  sew- 
ing groups,  two  science  groups,  one  printing  group,  and  two  groups  for 
plays.  The  work  of  these  groups  was  usually  carried  forward  to  a 
considerable  degree  of  success. 

The  photographic  group  was  composed  of  several  boys.  They  fitted 
up  a  closet  as  a  dark  room.  They  were  always  looking  for  information 
on  photography,  and  teachers  often  brought  them  books  and  pamph- 
lets. To  some  extent  they  were  photographers  for  the  class,  and  they 
took  photographs  of  some  of  the  plays  and  made  lantern  slides  for  them. 
After  they  had  been  at  work  for  several  weeks  the  rest  of  the  class 
wanted  them  to  tell  them  something  of  their  work.  The  group  were  a 
little  doubtful  about  the  capacity  of  the  others  to  understand,  but  the 
leader  thought  of  something  which  he  believed  would  help  in  this  re- 
spect. During  the  period  for  group  work  he  fitted  up  his  camera  and 
focused  it  on  some  buildings  opposite.  He  then  called  out,  one  after 
another,  each  member  of  the  class,  made  him  put  his  head  under  the 
cloth,  and  asked  him,  "  What  do  you  see?  "  "I  see  the  buildings  up- 


3QO  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

side  down."  "  Do  you  want  to  know  why  it's  like  that?  If  you  do, 
we're  going  to  show  you  next  time." 

This  they  did,  explaining  how  the  rays  of  light  cross  one  another  in 
the  lens.  The  boys  of  this  group  kept  a  record  of  their  work,  and,  as 
with  the  cooking  group,  bound  it  in  a  book.  One  boy  made  a  small 
pinhole  camera,  which,  without  any  lens,  took  some  very  fair  photo- 
graphs. 

One  of  the  plays  given  in  this  room  was  "  The  Sleeping  Beauty." 
There  was  no  dramatic  version  of  this  tale  that  the  children  knew  of. 
They  brought  to  school  all  the  different  editions  of  the  story  they  could 
find,  and  started  to  turn  it  into  dramatic  form.  This  they  did  by 
arranging  the  cast  first.  "  You  may  be  the  prince,  and  you  the  queen," 
etc.  The  members  of  the  cast  then  began  to  extemporize  the  words. 
The  action  was  thus  first  thought  of.  As  they  went  on  rehearsing, 
different  members  of  the  group  would  criticize  the  words  used,  saying, 
"  That  doesn't  sound  right."  They  avoided  using  big  words  or  hard 
phrases  from  the  book.  They  divided  the  story  into  scenes,  made  the 
costumes  and  strung  a  curtain  on  a  wire  in  front  of  the  teacher's  desk. 
They  used  the  blackboard  as  scenery,  drawing  on  it  the  castle  seen 
through  a  forest.  To  bring  this  in,  a  scene  was  invented  which  con- 
sisted of  the  prince  inquiring  of  two  countrymen  his  way  to  the  castle. 
It  was  not  until  after  the  play  had  been  nearly  fixed  in  its  final  form 
that  they  began  to  write  it  down.  By  this  time  there  were  changes 
suggested  and  accepted  about  which  a  dispute  would  sometimes  arise 
afterwards,  but  one  of  the  main  reasons  for  writing  was  pride  in  the 
play.  One  of  the  boys  of  this  group  was  very  desirous  of  learning 
typewriting.  He  brought  an  old  machine  to  school,  and,  among  other 
things,  made  a  typewritten  copy  of  the  play.  .  .  . 

This  plan  created  great  interest  in  the  homes,  and  the  teacher  was 
surprised  to  receive  many  requests  from  the  mothers  and  other  members 
of  the  family  for  permission  to  see  it  when  presented.  This,  of  course, 
was  granted,  and  the  simplicity  of  the  play,  with  all  the  earmarks  of 
genuine  child  production,  was  thoroughly  appreciated  by  the  audience. 

The  attitude  of  the  teachers  with  relation  to  this  play  was  the  same 
as  in  the  other  groups.  I  may  perhaps  call  myself  one  of  the  teachers, 
for  I  came  into  the  room  very  frequently  while  the  children  were  re- 
hearsing. I  used  to  think  over  what  I  had  seen  the  day  before,  and 
see  if  I  could  add  anything  or  offer  any  suggestion  that  the  children 
would  take  up.  Sometimes  the  children  would  say,  "  That's  right, 
let's  do  it  that  way,"  but  at  other  times  they  would  shake  their  heads 
and  say,  No.  It  was  at  first  a  little  disconcerting  to  be  overruled, 
especially  in  matters  where  I  was  quite  sure  I  was  artistically  correct ; 
but  I  was  consoled  by  the  reflection  that  only  those  criticisms  which 
they  freely  and  voluntarily  accepted  were  the  ones  which  entirely 


SOCIAL  ATMOSPHERE  AND  THE  LEARNING  PROCESS    391 

suited  their  stage  of  development,  and  when  they  rejected  modifications 
of  my  proposing  I  saw  that  ethically,  if  not  artistically,  they  were  right. 
I  felt  that  they  were  standing  on  their  own  feet  with  perfect  honesty 
of  conviction.  Indeed,  until  they  refused  to  do  something  which  I 
had  recommended,  I  was  never  quite  sure  that  they  were  really  inde- 
pendent. I  knew,  too,  that  it  was  a  better  example,  to  their  minds,  of 
real  service  to  them  than  if  I  had  insisted  on  my  proposals. 

To  come  in  contact  with  realities  in  a  child  is  the  most  attractive 
thing  about  teaching.  It  is  these  realities  which  we  admire  in  chil- 
dren, and  which  afford  the  greatest  pleasure  to  parents  in  their  contact 
with  them.  In  schools  of  the  usual  sort  most  of  this  naive  originality 
is  overruled  and  crushed.  It  is  feared  that  it  may  lead  to  lack  of  dis- 
cipline, and,  moreover,  where  the  initiative  flows  continuously  from 
the  teacher,  there  is  little  room  for  it,  and  it  comes  out  accidentally, 
if  at  all.  The  teacher  thus  robs  himself  of  a  great  part  of  the  pleasure 
of  his  work,  becomes  formal,  "  teachery,"  and  at  the  same  time  blinds 
himself  to  the  real  capacities  of  the  children. 

The  time  which  was  at  first  allowed  for  this  work  was,  as  already 
said,  three  half -hours  a  week,  but  after  a  short  time  many  of  the  groups 
began  to  say  to  the  teacher  that  they  wished  they  could  have  more 
time.  They  were  sure  that  they  could  do  a  great  deal  better,  if  the 
time  were  extended.  The  teacher  replied  that  she  was  not  sure  that 
every  group  could  use  the  time  well,  and  since  it  was  a  matter  that 
concerned  the  whole  class,  she  could  not  extend  the  time  unless  she  was 
sure  of  this.  The  children  used  part  of  their  group-work  time  to  dis- 
cuss this,  and  convinced  the  teacher  that  all  would  be  benefited. 
She  accordingly  extended  the  time,  at  first  two  half-hour  periods, 
and  later  on,  after  further  requests,  to  three  quarters  of  an  hour  per 
day.  This  contented  the  children  of  this  age  completely.  Their 
power  to  plan  seemed  to  be  entirely  used,  and  after  this  they  never 
asked  to  have  more  time.  The  teacher  noticed  also  that  they  were 
better  satisfied  to  be  carried  along  by  her  in  work  of  her  planning 
during  the  rest  of  the  day  than  ever  they  had  been  before. 

From  my  experience  with  six  third-grade  classes,  I  can  say  that 
no  class  ever  asked  for  more  time  than  an  hour  a  day.  These  experi- 
ences thus  show  with  a  certain  degree  of  conclusiveness  that  there  is  a 
distinct  limit  beyond  which  the  children  are  not  able  to  go.  Whether 
it  would  always  be  best  to  go  so  far  as  this  limit  is  not  asserted. 
In  the  case  cited  it  seemed,  in  view  of  the  best  interests  and  total 
work  of  the  class,  the  wisest  thing  to  do.  The  teacher  constantly  kept 
in  mind  the  detail  problems  of  her  grade,  particularly  reading,  writ- 
ing and  arithmetic.  Many  of  the  groups  directly  promoted  interest 
and  progress  in  the  routine  subjects,  so  that  the  class  made  as  good  ad- 
vance along  these  lines  as  any  class  had  previously  done.  Leaving 


392  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

aside  the  higher  concerns  of  character,  resourcefulness  and  social 
organization,  the  teacher  felt  that,  from  the  lower  standpoint  of 
subject  matter  alone,  the  time  allowed  was  amply  justified. 

In  this  class  there  were  four  children  who  were  never  in  any  group. 
They  did  not  desire  to  join  any,  and  the  teacher  gave  them  work  to  do 
by  themselves.  They  were  all  physically  rather  inert,  and  were  always 
pleased  to  do  as  well  as  they  could  anything  that  the  teacher  directed. 

In  the  other  class,  during  this  year,  instead  of  fourteen  groups 
there  were  thirty-eight  formed,  and  there  was  no  child  who  was  not 
in  one  or  more  of  these  groups.  This  was  in  a  class  of  fifty  children, 
so  that  the  percentage  of  leadership  was  high,  probably  over  sixty 
per  cent,  —  if  we  allow  for  some  who  were  leaders  of  more  than  one 
group.  When  such  a  result  is  possible  with  children  eight  or  nine 
years  old,  the  outlook  for  democracy  is  good.  Each  child  was  in  six 
or  seven  groups  during  the  year,  and  there  were  usually  about  seven 
groups  running  at  the  same  time.  The  teacher  did  not  find  these  too 
many  to  keep  in  contact  with,  although  there  was  some  difficulty  in 
getting  time  for  consultation  during  the  planning  of  each  group 
and  before  it  was  started.  The  teacher  pointed  out  this  fact  to  the 
children,  and  it  was  proposed  to  put  the  plans  in  writing  so  that  the 
teacher  could  read  them  at  some  other  period.  There  was  the  ad- 
vantage of  definiteness  in  the  writing,  although  children  of  this  age 
only  wrote  the  salient  points,  and  verbal  discussion  was  also  necessary. 

The  moral  and  social  effect  of  the  organization  of  the  groups,  rather 
than  the  artistic  perfection  of  the  plays,  is  of  course  the  first  concern. 
In  illustration  of  some  of  the  effects  on  individual  character,  one  or 
two  experiences  may  be  cited.  There  was  a  boy  of  great  imagination, 
who  had  no  difficulty  in  projecting  any  number  of  ideas,  but  who 
found  carrying  them  out  quite  another  matter.  In  the  ordinary 
classroom  work  under  the  teacher  his  hand  was  always  up,  whether 
his  answer  was  very  much  to  the  point  or  not.  No  ignoring  or 
snubbing  made  any  difference.  It  was  felt  by  the  teachers  that  he 
was  given  to  "  showing  off."  When  self -organized  group  work  started 
he  was  the  originator  of  several  groups.  He  left  some  of  them,  and 
was  put  out  of  others  without  ceremony.  The  formula  in  one  group 
was,  "Jack,  you're  fired;  you  talk  too  much  and  do  nothing."  To 
this  he  did  not  even  answer,  but  turned  on  his  heel  and  went  off. 
At  last  he  could  get  no  one  to  join  him  in  anything  that  he  proposed, 
nor  was  he  included  in  any  other  group.  After  a  while  he  cultivated 
the  friendship  of  a  rather  awkward  and  quiet  boy  who  had  just  come 
to  the  school.  It  turned  out  that  he  was  impressing  him  with  the 
merits  of  a  grand  play  that  he  had  in  his  mind.  The  steadiness  of 
this  boy  was  sufficient  to  enable  them  in  combination  to  get  others, 
and  the  play  was  finally  started. 


SOCIAL  ATMOSPHERE  AND  THE   LEARNING   PROCESS    393 

As  is  easily  seen,  the  social  force  in  each  little  group  ran  out  readily 
to  the  whole  class,  and  tended  to  extend  itself  to  the  rest  of  the  school 
and  to  the  home.  Although  there  was  not  always  a  direct  recogni- 
tion on  the  part  of  each  group  that  they  were  working  for  the  whole 
class,  this  was  usually  felt.  In  the  plays  it  was  intended  from  the 
beginning  that  they  were  to  be  offered  to  the  class.  When  the  first 
play  was  judged  by  the  group  running  it  to  be  as  good  as  they  could 
make  it,  the  question  of  presenting  it  to  the  class  was  brought  up 
before  the  teacher.  She  said  that  she  could  not  give  time  on  the  pro- 
gram beyond  what  she  had  already  given  for  group  work,  and 
therefore  they  would  need  to  ask  the  rest  of  the  class  whether  they 
wanted  to  give  up  the  various  things  they  were  doing  in  order  to  hear 
the  play.  The  group  went  before  the  class  and  told  them  that  the 
play  would  take  but  ten  minutes,  and  asked  them  if  they  cared  to 
hear  it  enough  to  give  up  their  own  work.  This  was  done,  and  some 
time  was  added  on  to  discuss  the  play  and  ask  questions  about  it. 

Some  of  the  pupils  were  in  as  many  as  fifteen  different  groups 
during  the  year.  Of  course  these  groups  did  not  last  so  long  as  those 
referred  to  in  the  above  paper.  There  was  thus  a  variety  of  experience 
suitable  for  young  children,  and  undue  specialism  was  avoided.  The 
whole  class,  moreover,  was  interested  in  everything  done  by  each  group. 

During  the  year  the  same  kind  of  work  was  introduced  into  the 
fourth  grade,  and  here  the  pupils,  during  the  latter  part  of  the  year, 
took  possession  of  the  large  attic  in  the  school  and  formed  a  village, 
with  houses  and  workshops  in  different  parts.  There  was  a  town- 
hall  where  the  class  met  together  as  a  whole.  The  different  houses 
were  furnished  with  wall  paper,  chairs,  flowers,  etc.  Dishes  were 
modeled  in  clay.  One  boy  set  up  a  battery  of  his  own,  made  to  run 
a  bell  as  a  signal  to  the  villages.  Calling  was  conducted  formally, 
calling  cards  were  printed,  and  a  number  of  different  activities  were 
instituted. 

C.  A.  Scott.    Extracts  from  Social  Education,  Ginn  and  Company. 

Comment  on  the  Social  Aspects  of  Class  Instruction 

The  whole  educative  process,  as  far  as  it  goes  on  at  all,  is  one  of  the 
ways  in  which  the  group  life  of  the  school  manifests  itself.  That  is 
to  say,  the  processes  of  study  and  of  learning  are  not  external  activi- 
ties, superenforced  upon  the  little  social  group  formed  by  the  school. 
Everything  the  school  does  is  influenced  by  the  fact  that  it  is  a  group, 
whether  any  conscious  account  is  taken  of  the  fact  or  not.  In  this 
we  do  not  have  specifically  in  mind  such  a  type  of  school  as  has  made 
a  definite  attempt  to  introduce  social  activities  —  so  called.  We  shall 


394  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

consider  only  the  average  school,  and  we  wish  to  suggest  that  what 
goes  on  within  it  are  definitely  social  activities ;  that,  whether  we  will 
or  no,  whatever  is  attempted  and  whatever  is  done  is,  in  every  case, 
more  than  the  summation  of  many  individual  purposes  and  acts,  but 
are  the  resultants  of  the  interaction  of  minds.  This  could  be  illus- 
trated in  many  ways,  but  it  will  probably  be  more  suggestive  for 
present  purposes  to  note  the  truth  of  the  statement  in  those  forms  of 
activity  which  are  usually  considered  the  preeminent  function  of  the 
school,  viz.  in  the  preparation  and  reciting  of  lessons.  In  these 
activities  the  teacher  of  course  has  his  most  characteristic  function, 
at  least  traditionally  speaking.  But  his  actual  function  in  this  case 
is  not  merely  that  of  a  purveyor  of  certain  objective  facts  which  in  one 
way  and  another  he  devises  means  of  conveying  to  his  pupils  and  then 
becomes  a  quiz  master  to  determine  how  much  the  pupils  have  gotten 
and  retained.  Of  course  the  teacher  may  seem  to  do  merely  this,  but 
even  on  its  lowest  plane  this  process  can  never  be  mere  mechanical 
transmission  and  testing  of  knowledge.  The  teacher  can  never  even 
though  crude  he  may  be,  eliminate  himself  —  he  will  always  be  a 
person  in  the  presence  of  his  pupils  and  whatever  he  does,  whether  it 
be  little  or  much,  will  always  be  saturated  with  the  fact  that  he  is  a 
person  and  not  a  phonograph. 

We  say  he  cannot  eliminate  himself,  and  it  is  not  desirable  that  he 
should,  if  he  could,  for,  as  we  have  seen,  practically  all  our  human 
problems  have  originated,  in  one  way  or  another,  through  human 
association,  and  mental  activity  is  stimulated  and  sustained  by  social 
pressure.  Hence  it  is  not  even  desirable  that  the  teacher  should  step 
into  the  background  when  he  has  once  brought  the  pupil  and  the  facts 
to  be  learned  together,  hoping  thus  to  develop  initiative  and  indepen- 
dence in  the  pupil.  It  is  not  thus  that  these  qualities  of  mind  are  de- 
veloped, nor  are  they  hindered  in  their  development  by  the  presence 
of  others  with  the  learner.  It  is  only  under  these  latter  conditions 
that  they  can  really  appear  in  any  normal  way  —  and  if  the  teacher 
finds  that  his  presence  tends  to  make  the  pupils  dependent  and  lacking 
in  energy,  it  can  only  be  said  that  he  has  somehow  missed  the  true 
way  in  which  to  associate  with  them.  The  point  holds  for  all  teach- 
ing. It  is  always  a  process  between  persons,  and  the  whole  gamut  of 
influences  implied  in  personality  is  inevitably  brought  to  bear  in  every 


SOCIAL  ATMOSPHERE   AND   THE   LEARNING   PROCESS    395 

process  of  teaching.  It  is  not  a  question  of  whether  the  teacher  should 
be  a  person  or  not,  but  as  to  how  he  shall  make  his  personality  operative. 

Before  following  up  this  phase  further,  we  should  note  another  as- 
pect of  the  situation,  viz.  the  presence  of  other  pupils.  Whatever 
the  teacher  does  is  always  done  within  the  group  formed  by  the  teacher 
and  the  class  and  has  its  group  effects  —  so  with  each  act  of  the  pupils. 
We  thus  see  that  the  conception  of  teaching  and  of  the  recitation  as  a 
relatively  mechanical  process  or  one  having  no  social  background  is 
altogether  inadequate  and  misleading.  Under  all  circumstances  the 
work  of  teacher  and  pupils,  in  or  out  of  the  recitation,  whether  good 
or  bad,  is  a  social  affair. 

What  are  the  consequences  of  this,  or  how  should  the  process  of 
teaching  and  of  learning  be  stated,  if  they  are  to  be  taken  socially 
rather  than  individually?  As  we  have  said,  the  teacher  is  a  personal- 
ity, "  a  psychical  and  moral  object  in  the  pupils'  environment." 
As  we  have  already  shown,  knowledge  cannot  be  transferred  bodily 
from  one  mind  to  another  —  it  must  be  built  up  by  each  one  for  him- 
self. This  very  conception  plays  directly  into  our  social  theory,  for 
once  the  mechanical  transmission  of  knowledge  is  seen  to  be  impos- 
sible the  teacher  as  a  social  factor  appears,  i.e.  the  way  in  which  the 
teacher  exerts  his  influence  is  of  necessity  along  social  lines.  The 
situation  between  teacher  and  pupils  is  exactly  that  which  we  have 
sketched  as  characteristic  of  the  relations  of  people  in  life  outside  the 
school ;  the  influences  are  of  the  same  sort  and  the  results  are  the  same ; 
except  that  here  the  process  may  be  controlled  anjji  hence  conducted 
with  more  economy/  Outside  of  the  school,  as  we  have  seen,  problems 
arise  in  many  ways  through  social  intercourse.  Intellectual  activity 
is  so  stimulated,  and  different  individuals  contribute  to  the  solution 
of  problems.  It  is  essentially  a  complicated  give-and-take  process. 
It  is  the  same  in  the  school  as  far  as  there  is  any  activity  of  an  edu- 
cative sort  and  not  mere  stagnation. 

We  have  seen  that,  in  general,  the  social  group  tends  to  be  the  me- 
dium through  which  problems  arise,  or  at  least  when  a  problem  has 
arisen,  interest  in  it  is  maintained  through  social  intercourse,  and  that 
the  final  working  out  of  the  problem  is  apt  to  be  due  to  the  contribu- 
tions of  many  different  individuals.  It  is  usually  impossible  for  one 
person  to  see  all  sides  of  a  question,  and  hence  only  by  cooperation 


396  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

either  simultaneous  or  successive  can  a  really  successful  solution  be 
brought  to  pass.  As  we  have  also  pointed  out,  the  individual's  interest 
is  apt  to  fluctuate,  but  if  his  interest  is  shared  by  others,  it  is  more  apt  to 
survive  the  fluctuations  and  even  to  be  sustained  and  intensified.  No 
one  doubts  that  a  problem  felt  by  a  real  social  group  can  command  more 
intense  effort  of  different  individuals  than  if  it  is  felt  by  one  person  only. 

Now,  in  just  the  same  way,  in  the  class  or  even  in  the  school,  not 
merely  will  questions  appear  which  are  directly  related  to  the  mere 
fact  that  a  number  of  people  are  thus  brought  into  rather  close  rela- 
tionship, but  farther  than  this,  the  interaction  of  minds,  teacher's 
and  pupil's,  will  be  productive  of  questions  which  would  not  have 
come  to  them  separately.  That  is  to  say,  in  the  subject  matter 
studied,  natural  questions  will  appear  through  the  very  fact  that  many 
different  minds  are  at  work  upon  it. 

We  have  made  the  point  in  an  earlier  section  that  much  of  real 
growth  comes  through  the  organization  and  application  of  one's 
powers  in  the  solution  of  problems  which  are  for  the  individual  gen- 
uine, and  hence  full  of  appeal.  It  has  possibly  seemed  to  the  reader 
that  the  proposal  that  all  education  should  proceed  through  problems 
imposed  conditions  which,  practically,  are  almost  impossible  to  meet, 
however  desirable  they  may  be  otherwise.  And  the  difficulty  is  a 
genuine  one  if  the  pupil  is  considered  in  isolation.  When,  however, 
he  becomes  a  part  of  a  social  group,  as  he  almost  inevitably  does,  if 
he  has  a  teacher  and  is  in  a  class,  a  possible  solution  of  the  difficulty 
appears,  for  it  is  ^n  such  conditions,  as  our  previous  discussion  has 
shown,  that  problems  may  be  expected  to  arise  quite  normally  and 
spontaneously.  If  the  activity  is  really  of  the  group  sort,  the  problems 
will  be  quite  genuine,  and  the  effort  of  each  pupil  will  be  stimulated  and 
sustained.  It  has  been  stated,  also,  that  no  facts  can  in  any  proper 
.sense  be  transferred  bodily  from  one  mind  to  another;  that  what  is 
really  done  is  to  stimulate  a  constructive  activity  which  results  in  the 
building  up  within  the  learner  of  ideas  which  may  be  analogous  to 
those  of  the  instructor,  but  not  the  same.  In  the  situation  of  informal 
conversation  and  discussion  and  in  the  true  recitation,  we  have  the 
nearest  approach  to  what  might  appear  a  mere  transfer  of  fact  from 
teacher  to  pupil.  But  this  is  possible  because  the  mental  action  of 
both  is  moving  along  the  same  line,  each  contributing  to  the  move- 


SOCIAL  ATMOSPHERE   AND   THE  LEARNING   PROCESS    397 

merit;  and  the  solution  or  other  ideas,  which  each  finally  share,  are 
really  resultants  of  cooperation  in  the  solution  of  the  question  in  hand; 
the  process  has  been  one  of  genuine  "  give-and-take."  We  share  most 
nearly  the  mental  contents  of  others  when  we  are  working  with  them 
toward  a  common  end.  Under  such  conditions,  we  wish  to  em- 
phasize the  interchange  of  thought  as  not  only  normal,  but  truly  edu- 
cative —  i.e.  it  is  interchange  and  not  mere  transfer.  What  the  teacher 
gives  the  pupil,  the  pupil  feels  the  need  of,  and  really  appropriates, 
and,  on  the  other  hand,  the  reaction  of  the  pupil  upon  the  problem 
will  be  suggestive  in  many  ways  even  to  the  teacher. 

We  may  assert,  then,  that  the  true  effectiveness  of  the  recitation 
and  of  teaching  generally  lies  in  the  fact  that  it  is  some  sort  of  "  give- 
and-take  "  process  between  teacher  and  pupils  and  between  the  pupils 
themselves.  We  say  some  sort  because  it  always  occurs  in  varying 
degrees  as  far  as  there  is  any  teaching  and  learning  at  all. 

We  thus  see  that  we  have  here  conditions  of  utmost  significance  for 
effective  learning,  or,  more  generally,  for  genuine  growth.  The  point 
in  mentioning  and  discussing  them  in  detail  is  that  we  may  have  a 
better  conception  of  the  conditions  of  the  process,  and  hence  be  better 
able  to  get  the  full  value  afforded  by  the  social  situation. 

TOPICS  FOR  STUDY 

1.  To  what  extent  does  Scott's  self -organized  group  work  succeed 
in  making  the  things  to  be  learned  material  of  personal  intercourse 
between  pupils  and  instructors  and  between  the  children  themselves  ? 

2.  How  can   social  interests  and  social  motives  be  infused  into 
elementary  arithmetic  and  elementary  science? 

3.  Discuss  the  view  held  by  some  educators  that  the  personality 
of  the  teacher  should  disappear  as  much  as  possible  in  instruction. 

4.  Is  there,  on  the  other  hand,  danger  of  the  teacher's  being  too 
much  in  evidence?    Why? 

5.  To  what  extent  might  it  be  said  that  present-day  class  work  is 
too  largely  dominated  by  the  teacher?     Give  evidences  of. 

6.  Ways  in  which  instinctive  social  relations  of  children  in  school 
hours  are  apt  to  be  repressed. 

7.  In  what  way  does  the  teacher's  relation  to  pupils  present  ab- 
normal or  unnatural  social  aspects?    See  Mead. 

8.  Contrast  the  social  atmosphere  in  a  well-regulated  home  and 
that  in  the  school  with  reference  to  their  relations  to  learning. 


398  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

9.   Extent  to  which  problems  are  of  social  origin. 

10.  Justify  the  statement  that  real  instruction  involves  an  inter- 
change of  experience,  an  interaction  of  personalities,  in  which  the  child 
brings  something  which  he  actively  contrasts  and  compares  with  that 
furnished  by  teacher  or  book. 

11.  The  conversational  ideal  in  the  school. 

12.  What  various  conclusions  may  be  drawn  from  Burnham  with 
reference  to  school  instruction? 

13.  What  do  you  conclude  as  to  the  relative  values  of  home  and 
school  study? 

14.  Of  individual  vs.  group  study. 

REFERENCES 

BURNHAM,  W.  H.  "The  hygiene  of  home  study,"  Fed.  S.,  12:  213- 
230.  1905.  See  end  of  this  article  for  extensive  bibliography. 

CHAMBERS,  W.  G.  "The  conversational  method,  its  dangers  and 
principles,"  Ed.,  31 :  169. 

CLARK,  L.     "A  good  way  to  teach  history,"  S.  Rev.,*  17:  255.    1909. 
DEWEY,  J.     The  School  and  Society,  47-70.     Chicago,  1900. 

JASTROW,  J.  Fact  and  Fable  in  Psychology,  p.  301.  An  interesting 
account  of  how  the  social  atmosphere  facilitated  a  difficult  piece 
of  learning. 

JOHNSON,  N.  C.  "Habits  of  work  and  methods  of  study  of  high 
school  pupils  in  some  cities  in  Indiana,"  S.  Rev.,  7  :  257-277.  1899. 

KEITH,  J.  A.  "Socializing  the  materials  and  methods  of  education," 
M.S.  T.,  8:174. 

O'SHEA,  M.  V.  "Social  Development  and  Education,  p.  295.  Boston, 
1909.  Children's  self-discipline  in  the  group. 

SCOTT,  C.  A.  Social  Education.  See  especially  his  accounts  of  the 
self-organized  groups.  Extracts  reprinted  herewith. 

STRAYER,  G.  D.  A  Brief  Course  in  the  Teaching  Process,  Chapter  XII, 
"Social  phases  of  the  recitation."  New  York,  1911. 

TARDE,  GABRIEL.  "The  interpsychology  and  interplay  of  human 
minds,"  International  Quarterly,  7 :  59-84. 

TRIPLETT,  NORMAN.  "The  dynamogenic  factors  in  pace-making 
and  competitions,"  Am.  Jour.  Psy.,  9 :  507-533.  1898. 

WATERS,  ROBERT.  Culture  by  Conversation.  New  York,  1908.  Edu- 
cational and  intellectual  influence  of  conversation.  Has  many 
stimulating  suggestions. 


CHAPTER  XX 

THE  CORPORATE   LIFE   OF   THE   SCHOOL   IN  RELATION   TO    MORAL 

TRAINING 

Social  Aspects  of  Moral  Training 

EVERY  institution  has  its  moral  atmosphere  and  tone.  Strong 
personalities  establish  the  standards  and  cut  the  patterns  which  per- 
sist year  after  year  by  imitation  and  repetition.  The  children  come 
and  go,  but  the  institution  with  its  traditions,  its  moral  standards,  its 
rules  and  regulations,  chiseled  as  it  were  in  adamant,  remains.  Its 
molds  and  dies  give  shape  to  all  who  pass  through.  Moral  training 
with  children  is  more  a  matter  of  atmosphere  and  standard,  of  example 
and  imitation,  than  of  formal  instruction. 

The  various  forms  of  education  and  training  discussed  in  previous 
:hapters  of  this  book  are  shot  through  with  moral  relations.  These, 
lowever,  may  not  appear  in  the  consciousness  of  the  child.  It  is 
.mportant  that  they  should  appear  and  that  they  should  exercise  a 
controlling  influence ;  for  morality  is  a  quality  of  character,  and  not 
merely  a  mental  acquisition.  One  may  be  trained  intellectually, 
'ndustrially  or  economically  without  being  moral.  Character,  how- 
ever, is  not  made  up  of  separate  compartments.  Each  child  is  a  unit, 
although  a  very  complex  one.  If  the  character  is  morally  sound,  its 
expression  in  every  direction  —  social,  intellectual,  industrial,  eco- 
nomic, etc.  —  will  be  moral. 

An  education  which  does  not  rest  on  a  moral  foundation  is  worse 
than  ignorance.  The  goal  of  the  entire  educative  process  is  moral 
character.  Conceding  the  truth  of  this  proposition,  as 'almost  all 
parents  and  teachers  do,  it  is  remarkable  that  instruction  in  morals 
receives  so  little  attention  from  them.  The  National  Education  As- 
sociation is  the  most  representative  body  of  educators  in  the  country. 
En  running  through  the  annual  reports  of  the  past  fifty  years  of  its 
tiistory,  one  finds  a  surprising  dearth  of  matter  on  the  subject  of  teach- 
ing morals.  Each  branch  of  the  curriculum  in  its  manifold  aspects  of 
content  and  method  has  been  treated  again  and  again,  and  great 
progress  in  the  making  of  a  course  of  study  better  adapted  to  the 
Leeds  of  the  children,  and  of  the  times  has  undoubtedly  resulted  from 


400  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 


MORAL  TRAINING  401 

While  only  a  passive  agent  in  the  moral  deterioration  of  the  home 
resulting  from  these  social,  economic  and  industrial  changes,  the  state 
has  been  an  active  agent  in  the  elimination  of  religious  instruction 
from  the  public  school.  Moral  instruction  in  the  earlier  period  of 
education  in  this  country  was  inseparably  bound  up  with  religious 
instruction.  But  through  the  gradual  drawing  away  of  the  public 
schools  from  church  influence,  the  function  of  the  teacher  as  a  monitor 
in  religious  matters  has  been  greatly  reduced,  the  literature  of  religious 
truth,  as  such,  excluded  from  the  classroom,  and  the  whole  situation 
secularized  to  such  an  extent  as  to  effect  almost  a  complete  elimination 
of  religious  instruction  from  public  education.  This  condition  has 
forced  a  schism  between  religious  and  moral  instruction,  and  left  the 
latter  swinging  in  the  air.  Whether  the  state  could  have  done  other- 
wise and  yet  safeguarded  in  the  public  schools  our  American  ideals  of 
freedom  of  conscience  and  religious  liberty,  is  a  question.  Our  only 
purpose  here  is  merely  to  call  attention  to  the  fact.  Whatever  may  be 
true  of  the  ability  of  the  mature  mind  to  form  moral  conceptions  and 
act  upon  moral  grounds  independent  of  religious  feeling  or  of  the  con- 
sciousness of  a  Supreme  Being,  it  is  certainly  true  that  such  ethical 
abstractions  do  not  appeal  to  the  child  mind. 

At  each  step  in  the  elimination  of  religious  instruction  from  public 
schools,  society  has  assumed  increased  risk.  Public  elementary  edu- 
cation is  the  extension  downward  of  the  nation's  authority  by  moral 
suasion.  It  is  the  peaceful  arm  of  the  police  system  before  it  has  be- 
come necessary  to  display  the  blue  coat,  brass  buttons  and  locust  wand. 
The  only  rational  and  adequate  means  within  the  power  of  a  democracy 
to  conserve  and  perpetuate  herself,  her  laws  and  her  institutions,  is 
through  public  education.  We  are  expending  immense  sums  of  money 
trying  to  correct  grievous  ills  by  legislation.  This  is  attempting  to 
effect  social  uplift  by  throwing  our  weight  on  the  short  arm  of  the 
lever.  It  is  a  thousand  times  better  to  form  than  to  reform.  The 
children  of  to-day  make  the  state  of  to-morrow.  Nine  tenths  of  these 
children  receive  their  education  in  the  public  elementary  schools. 
Character  by  culture  through  education,  instead  of  by  laws  and  penal- 
ties, should  be  the  aim  of  society.  An  education  which  is  not  moral  is 
unsafe  both  for  the  individual  and  for  the  state. 

Not  only  is  the  public  school  shorn  of  much  of  its  power  for  moral 
instruction  by  excluding  from  it  all  religious  instruction,  but  it  is  also 
further  handicapped  as  a  moral  influence  by  the  fact  that  ordinary 
academic  instruction  does  not  offer  a  large  field  for  moral  action.  The 
end  of  moral  training  is  freedom.  Freedom  is  liberty  of  choice  coupled 
with  sufficient  moral  insight  and  self-control  to  choose  the  right ;  for 
choosing  what  is  wrong  results  in  a  limitation  of  freedom.  One  is 
free  who  does  as  he  pleases,  but  pleases  to  do  right.  Moral  training  is, 


402  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

therefore,  not  merely  informing  the  intellect  by  means  of  moral  stand- 
ards and  ideals,  but  it  is  forming  the  will  to  choose  aright.  Character 
has  been  defined  as  a  perfectly  formed  will,  but  it  must  be  understood 
that  the  principal  agent  in  forming  the  will  is  the  will  itself.  The  will, 
building  character  by  its  own  conscious  acts,  is  the  supreme  aim  of 
moral  training. 

The  child  that  is  trained  up  "in  the  way  he  should  go  will  not  depart 
from  it,"  because  his  will  has  become  morally  formed,  and  he  does  not 
choose  to.  How  to  provide  the  child  with  a  moral  experience  rather 
than  simply  moral  ideas,  is  the  problem  we  have  to  work  out  in  moral 
training.  We  all  distrust  direct  moral  instruction,  and  yet  in  our  public 
schools  are  scarcely  able  to  furnish  an  environment  that  contains  any- 
thing worth  while  in  the  way  of  moral  experience.  The  point  of  con- 
tact between  teacher  and  pupil  is  intellectual  and  academic  rather  than 
moral  and  practical. 

School  life  as  the  child  finds  it  is  forced  and  artificial.  It  is  not  real 
life,  and  the  child  knows  it.  The  material  with  which  the  school  deals 
is  remote  from  the  child's  natural  interests.  He  fails  to  see  its  con- 
nection with  practical  everyday  living.  He,  therefore,  does  not  take  it 
as  seriously  and  genuinely  as  he  does  his  life  outside  the  school.  If  to 
him  the  environment  is  artificial,  the  content  of  his  studies  unrelated 
to  the  life  about  him,  the  moral  standards  required  of  him  in  the 
schoolroom  will  likewise  be  merely  academic.  This  rather  empty  and 
negative  condition  of  the  public  school,  with  respect  to  moral  training, 
would  be  greatly  relieved  through  an  enrichment  of  the  school  curricu- 
lum and  a  vitalizing  of  its  activities  by  an  infusion  of  the  warm  cur- 
rent of  the  child's  everyday  interests  and  experiences  outside  the 
school.  Unless  we  are  able  to  do  this,  we  must  be  content  ourselves 
with  merely  skimming  the  ground  of  moral  training  in  public  school 
education. 

That  which  reaches  the  child  through  his  experience  is  tenfold  more  a 
part  of  him  than  that  which  comes  to  him  through  mere  ideas  or  sen- 
sory stimulus.  One  moral  experience  is  worth  a  score  of  formal  les- 
sons in  morality.  One  of  the  boys  in  our  garden  class  stole  radishes 
from  another  boy's  garden  and  was  caught  in  the  act  by  two  or  three 
of  his  companions.  All  of  the  gardeners  were  at  once  assembled; 
the  boy  and  his  case  were  set  before  them.  After  some  informal  dis- 
cussion a  motion  was  made  by  one  of  the  children  that  the  boy  forfeit 
his  garden.  It  was  one  of  the  best  in  the  plot,  and  he  had  spent  much 
time  on  it,  but  by  his  deed  he  had  violated  property  rights  and  thus 
forfeited  his  right  of  its  ownership.  The  motion  was  unanimously 
carried.  When  the  assembly  was  asked  if  there  was  any  further  busi- 
ness concerning  the  matter,  it  was  moved  by  one  of  the  children  that 
this  boy  be  required  "to  weed  all  of  the  other  gardens."  This  motion 


MORAL  TRAINING  403 

was  not  entertained  by  the  chair,  but  would  no  doubt  have  carried  if  a 
vote  had  been  taken  on  it :  first,  because  recent  rains  had  greatly  in- 
creased the  growth  of  weeds  in  the  gardens ;  second,  because  of  natural 
laziness  in  relation  to  such  work  as  weeding  gardens ;  and  third,  because 
the  thief  was  an  unpopular  boy. 

Soon  after  the  walls  and  ceilings  of  one  of  the  boys'  cottages  in  our 
Orphanage  had  been  decorated,  a  boy  made  with  a  nail  an  ugly  scratch 
about  ten  feet  long  through  the  paint  on  the  wall  of  one  of  the  dormi- 
tories. This  is  the  boy  referred  to  in  the  chapter  on  Punishment,  who 
was  brought  to  the  office  by  other  boys  of  the  cottage  with  the  request 
that  he  be  "everlastingly  licked."  But  they  were  shown  that  there 
was  no  connection  between  the  culprit's  offense  and  a  "licking." 
They  were  then  given  some  instruction  as  to  principles  of  punishment 
with  special  reference  to  the  fact  that  punishment  should  bear  a  natural 
relation  to  the  offense,  and  that  it  should,  when  possible,  take  the  form 
of  an  indeterminate  sentence.  The  matter  was  referred  back  to  the 
boys  for  further  deliberation.  The  decision  reached  and  presented  the 
following  day  was  that  the  boy  should  sleep  in  the  attic,  going  to  bed 
in  the  dark,  until  such  time  as  it  was  thought  safe  for  him  to  return  to* 
the  dormitory.  He  was  kept  sleeping  in  the  attic  for  about  six  weeks. 

Several  interesting  inferences  may  be  drawn  from  such  instances 
as  these.  First,  that  children  are  capable  of  rational  action  upon 
moral  questions.  Second,  that  it  is  unsafe  to  give  absolute  authority 
into  their  hands,  as  has  been  attempted  in  some  of  our  school  govern- 
ment schemes ;  for  children  are  emotional  and  may  be  mercilessly  cruel 
in  passing  judgment  and  executing  moral  or  governmental  functions. 
Third,  that  participation  in  government  under  proper  restriction  is  an 
essential  factor  in  the  training  of  the  future  citizens  of  a  democracy, 
and  that  helping  to  discipline  and  govern  others  promotes  self-gov- 
ernment. Not  one  case  of  stealing  from  gardens  has  been  reported,  or 
to  our  knowledge  has  occurred  since  this  case,  which  happened  three 
years  ago.  The  damage  to  the  wall  was  repaired,  and  no  similar  case 
of  vandalism  in  the  cottage  has  occurred  for  about  the  same  period. 

Each  new  boy  received  into  the  cottage  comes  up  against  a  moral 
leverage  with  respect  to  certain  home-making  refinements,  group  ideals 
and  industrial  standards,  which  he  cannot  resist.  He  is  seized  and 
shaped  to  the  molds  by  forces  which  he  cannot  withstand.  The  same 
may  be  true  with  respect  to  moral  standards  in  any  school,  if  the  teacher 
works  wisely  and  diligently  to  establish  them. 

Children,  as  far  as  they  are  able  to  understand,  should  be  conscious 
of  the  process  through  which  they  are  passing.  Nothing  will  secure 
their  cooperation  more  surely  than  to  understand  your  purposes  con- 
cerning them,  the  habits  which  you  want  them  to  form,  and  the  prin- 
ciples which  you  want  regnant  in  their  lives.  I  have  found  it  a  good 


404  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

plan  to  place  before  them  for  solution  problems  in  child  training  con- 
cerning themselves  and  other  children.  Attempts  to  solve  such  prob- 
lems lead  the  child  to  introspection  and  self-inquiry.  You  fight  the 
^battle  alone  in  training  a  child  if  you  do  not  have  his  conscious  coopera- 
tion in  the  work.  He  is  your  strongest  ally  against  the  foes  that  are 
within  or  the  temptations  without.  A  thorough  system  of  discrimina- 
tion with  respect  to  individual  merit  or  demerit  discipline,  scholar- 
ship, service  rendered,  etc.,  is  an  important  factor  in  moral  training. 
Nothing  is  more  wholesome  and  helpful  to  the  child  than  to  know  he 
stands  on  his  own  feet,  that  he  is  not  merely  one  of  a  crowd. 

In  this  Orphanage  we  endeavor  to  reward  every  best  effort  or  ex- 
cellency in  the  work  and  conduct  of  each  child,  and  to  offer  numerous 
opportunities  for  individual  initiative  along  many  lines.  This  is 
especially  needed  in  institutional  life,  where  the  besetting  sin  is  pretty 
sure  to  be  dead  levelism.  Make  the  boys  and  girls  conscious  of  this 
fact,  and  open  ways  for  them  to  escape  from  such  a  condition,  and  they 
will  break  through  the  crust  of  solidarity  which  may  have  settled  over 
them  like  a  pall. 

•  Moral  training  requires  that  children  should  be  put  upon  their  honor 
and  trusted.  Responsibility  lies  at  the  very  foundation  of  morality. 
Children  are  quick  to  sense  the  moral  atmosphere  in  which  they  are 
placed.  If  it  is  one  of  distrust,  they  immediately  respond  with  its 
natural  accompaniment,  deception.  The  less  you  trust  children,  the 
less  worthy  of  trust  do  they  grow.  It  is  better  to  trust  and  be  deceived 
than  not  to  trust  at  all.  Expect  much  in  this  regard  and  you  will  get 
much.  Distrust  and  lack  of  confidence  beget  irresponsibility  and  de- 
linquency. The  sense  of  moral  guilt  is  much  keener  when  the  child 
betrays  or  abuses  a  trust  than  it  is  if  he  does  wrong  when  expected  to 
do  so  if  he  gets  a  chance.  Wrongdoing  should  be  a  surprise  and  not  a 
matter  of  course. 

No  more  surveillance  and  coercion  in  moral  action  should  be  exer- 
cised than  is  absolutely  necessary.  The  coercion  may  not  be  that  of  a 
personal  force,  but  rather  that  of  a  system.  There  should  be  a  pro- 
gression from  younger  to  older  in  the  matter  of  responsibility.  The 
playgrounds  of  our  Orphanage  are  open  and  unfenced.  Our  children 
are  not  under  surveillance  while  at  play  any  more  than  are  the  children 
of  any  well-regulated  family.  A  child  can  run  away  if  he  wants  to. 
No  one  is  watching  him  to  see  that  he  does  not  run  away,  any  more  than 
you  would  have  some  one  watch  your  own  children  in  a  country  home. 
The  boys  wander  over  most  of  the  place  (comprising  over  forty  acres) 
in  their  play,  or  after  cherries,  chestnuts  or  wild  flowers.  Every 
pleasant  Sunday  afternoon  the  children  take  walks  into  the  country. 
They  go  in  groups  of  from  three  to  twenty,  the  girls  always  accompa- 
nied by  some  older  person,  the  boys  usually  without  escort  other  than 


MORAL  TRAINING  405 

one  or  two  of  their  own  number.  Children  fourteen  years  of  age  or 
older  frequently  make  visits  of  several  days  or  weeks  to  relatives,  for 
we  believe  in  strengthening  kinship  ties  where  they  are  safe  and  proper. 
Our  children  go  to  New  York,  Yonkers  and  Hastings  on  errands  fre- 
quently and  alone.  About  fifty  weeks  of  visiting  with  relatives  and 
friends  were  among  the  privileges  which  the  boys  and  girls  of  the 
Orphanage  enjoyed  during  the  past  year. 

Ample  opportunity  must  be  provided  for  the  child  to  exercise  free- 
dom of  choice  whenever  consistent  with  his  highest  good.  Nothing 
makes  for  individual  responsibility  like  the  exercise  of  free  choice. 
Since  the  child  will  soon  be  sent  forth  into  the  world,  where  he  will  do  all 
of  his  own  choosing,  it  is  important  that  he  should  do  some  of  it  now, 
while  under  training,  as  a  preparation  for  that  greater  responsibility. 
The  child  of  fourteen  should  have  wider  range  of  free  choice  than  the 
child  of  twelve. 

The  superintendent  of  a  New  York  institution  some  time  ago  re- 
ceived a  letter  from  the  people  to  whom  an  orphan  child  fifteen  years 
of  age  was  apprenticed,  stating  that  the  child  would  never  take  a  bath 
unless  made  to  do  so.  The  regular  custom  in  the  institution  was  two 
baths  a  week  for  all  the  children.  As  this  child  had  been  in  the  insti- 
tution about  ten  years,  it  had  repeated  the  practice  of  bathing  about  a 
thousand  times,  and  yet  the  habit  of  taking  a  bath  had  not  been  formed. 
In  a  subjective  or  psychological  sense,  however,  this  child  had  really 
never  taken  a  bath.  If  we  analyze  the  complex  process  of  taking  a 
bath  into  its  elements,  we  note  the  following :  feeling  the  need  of  a 
bath,  desire  to  satisfy  the  need,  choosing  the  time,  manner  and  condi- 
tions for  taking  a  bath,  and  finally  the  application  of  soap  and  water. 
With  but  one  of  these  steps  had  the  child  had  anything  whatever  to  do 
during  the  entire  ten  years  of  her  life  in  the  institution.  Hence  the 
child  had  not  acquired  the  habit  of  bathing. 

The  forming  of  a  habit  above  the  level  of  mere  instinct  requires 
something  more  than  repetition.  If  feeling,  desire  and  choice  are 
necessary  steps  in  the  act  which  is  to  become  habitual,  they  must  func- 
tion in  the  genetic  process  of  establishing  the  habit.  Without  pur- 
poseful effort  no  habit  will  be  formed  even  by  endless  repetition.  This 
is  why  institutionalism  is  so  empty  and  barren  of  intelligent  response 
in  character  and  efficiency  on  the  part  of  those  who  have  been  subjected 
to  its  stupefying  regime. 

•  Public  sentiment  may  become  as  potent  a  factor  for  moral  uplift 
among  children  as  among  adults.  Almost  unlimited  possibilities  for 
good  lie  in  this  comparatively  neglected  field  in  school  discipline. 
Two  of  my  children  attended  a  high  school  in  Massachusetts  where 
there  was  almost  no  cheating  or  cribbing,  and  what  little  there  was, 
was  frowned  upon  by  the  students ;  the  tone  of  the  school  was  against 


406  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

it.     Later  on,  they  attended  school  in  another  state  where  there  was  no 
sentiment  against  cribbing,  and  the  practice  was  very  prevalent. 

I  am  confident  if  the  garden  thief  and  the  cottage  vandal  had  been 
dealt  with  as  individuals  only  other  similar  cases  would  have  followed, 
no  matter  what  the  punishment  might  have  been.  The  inflicting  of 
punishment  upon  a  child  for  an  offense  against  his  fellowrs,  by  the  one 
in  authority,  is  by  no  means  so  effective  as  punishment  administered 
by  the  social  group  injured  or  caused  to  suffer  by  the  offense.  In  the 
latter  case  the  moral  standards  of  the  community  are  defined  and  estab- 
lished by  the  social  whole.  Each  individual  shares  in  the  influence 
and  uplift  of  every  moral  judgment.  The  culprit  also  accepts  his 
punishment  with  better  grace,  feels  the  force  of  the  moral  standards  of 
the  community  more  strongly,  and  is  much  less  liable  to  experience  feel- 
ings of  personal  resentment  than  he  is  when  the  punishment  is  decreed 
and  administered  by  an  individual. 

Every  enrichment  of  the  child's  life,  every  new  interest  in  play,  in- 
dustry or  study,  every  increase  of  liberty  or  possession,  brings  new 
temptations.  But  interests  and  temptations,  industry  and  freedom, 
constitute  life.  They  furnish  the  concrete  situations  and  conditions 
in  which  moral  relations  arise. 

G and  K ,  two  boys  of  the  Orphanage,  have  an  unusually 

elaborate  tree  hut  built  some  fifteen  feet  above  the  ground  in  a  clump  of 
chestnut  trees.  They  wanted  a  waterproof  roof  on  it.  Workmen  on 
the  place  were  using  tar  paper  for  damp  proofing  the  walls  of  a  new 
cottage  in  process  of  construction.  The  boys  stole  —  or  you  may  say, 
"carried  off"  —  two  half  rolls  of  tar  paper  for  use  in  their  playhouse 
enterprise.  At  the  same  time  they  greatly  needed  a  saw,  which  they 
also  found  in  the  contractor's  outfit  and  appropriated.  The  circum- 
stance offered  an  opportunity  for  moral  instruction  and  moral  training 
of  which  we  have  many  in  the  Orphanage,  and  always  will  have  as  long 
as  the  children  have  possessions  and  carry  on  constructive  play.  To 
make  things,  own  things  and  do  things  is  life  ;  and  life  —  real  life  — 
is  moral.  In  the  assembly  of  boys  it  was  voted  that  these  boys  should 
return  the  stolen  property,  apologize  to  the  contractor,  and  promise  not 
to  take  anything  more.  They  also  understood  that  any  repetition 
of  the  offense  would  mean  a  forfeit  of  their  ownership  of  the  house. 

A ,  a  fourteen-year-old  boy,  has  a  dovecote  which  he  built  last 

year.  He  is  raising  pigeons.  He  needed  food  for  them  and  stole  a 
generous  supply  from  the  poultry  feed  room  of  the  Orphanage.  The* 
desire  to  use  rather  than  to  possess  was  the  chief  motive  in  the  theft. 
In  the  former  case  it  was  a  suggestion  to  those  in  authority  that  chil- 
dren should  be  provided  with  material  for  their  playhouse  enterprises, 
or  at  least  be  given  honest  means  of  providing  it  for  themselves.  In 
the  latter  case,  opportunity  to  buy,  or  to  earn  by  labor,  food  for  pets 


MORAL  TRAINING  407 

was  suggested  and  thereafter  offered.  It  is  a  wise  parent  or  teacher 
whose  foresight  is  equal  to  these  natural  demands  of  the  child's  inter- 
est, and  who  anticipates  them  far  enough  in  advance  to  prevent  dis- 
honest outbreaks. 

Direct  as  well  as  indirect  instruction  in  morals  should  be  given  to 
children.  The  fear  of  making  a  moral  lesson  or  application  too  direct 
or  too  obvious  has  become  a  fetish  with  many  parents  and  teachers, 
and  the  result  often  is  that  no  moral  instruction  whatever  is  given. 
The  old-fashioned  appeal,  "Is  it  right?"  and  "Do  right/'  are  seldom 
heard  nowadays ;  and  yet  as  long  as  the  human  mind  has  a  conscience 
it  is  well  to  press  these  claims  upon  it,  abstract  as  they  are,  for  the  re- 
sponse will  usually  be  morally  uplifting.  In  attempting  to  adjust 
methods  of  discipline  and  instruction  to  the  caprice  of  the  child,  many 
parents  and  teachers  have  themselves  become  opportunists,  relying 
upon  devices  and  expedients  rather  than  upon  principles.  I  once  knew 
an  indulgent  mother  who  was  unable  to  get  her  young  son  to  bed  with- 
out resorting  to  devices,  one  of  which  was  for  a  member  of  the  family 
to  impersonate  a  hotel  proprietor,  receive  the  boy  as  a  guest  and  show 
him  his  room. 

The  three  following  cases,  in  which  direct  instruction  given  in  season 
would  no  doubt  have  served  as  prevention,  are  typical  of  other  similar 
ones  which  have  come  within  my  experience.  An  undersized  fourteen- 
year-old  boy,  when  asked  why  he  was  so  small  for  his  age,  told  me  he 
could  not  account  for  his  lack  of  physical  development  and  vigor  unless 
it  was  due  to  smoking  cigarettes,  from  about  seven  years  of  age  until 
brought  to  the  Orphanage  School.  He  said  he  did  not  know  the  habit 
would  injure  him.  He  is  a  good  boy,  trustworthy  and  well  disposed, 
ana  would  no  doubt  never  have  formed  the  habit  had  he  been  properly 
instructed. 

M ,  now  fourteen  years  of  age,  brought  with  her  when  she  en- 
tered the  school  four  years  ago,  a  vulgar  Bowery  song  which  she  imme- 
diately proceeded  to  teach  to  the  other  little  girls.  The  song  was 
brought  to  the  office  by  an  older  girl.  The  child  showed  little  knowl- 
edge of  the  meaning  of  the  song  when  questioned  concerning  it,  and 
is  now,  four  years  later,  one  of  the  most  refined  girls  in  the  school. 

K ,  at  fifteen  years  of  age,  told  me  what  a  hard  struggle  he  had 

had  to  break  up  an  injurious  personal  habit  after  my  first  conference 
with  the  boys  on  the  subject  some  two  years  before ;  also,  that  he  had 
not  known  the  practice  was  wrong  or  would  work  injury  to  him,  until 
so  instructed. 

Just  as  school  nurses  and  settlement  workers  find,  in  thousands  of 
homes,  deplorable  ignorance  concerning  dietary,  sanitation,  the  care 
of  the  children  and  the  sick,  resulting  in  ill  health  and  a  high  mortality 
rate,  so  may  teachers,  if  they  inquire,  find  distressing  ignorance  among 


4o8  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

school  children  concerning  personal  habits,  purity,  temperance,  right- 
eous living,  etc.,  resulting  every  year  in  a  record  of  juvenile  delinquency, 
vice  and  crime.  In  such  cases  there  is  need  of  direct  instruction,  and, 
if  properly  given,  it  will  go  a  long  way  toward  enlightenment  and  pre- 
vention. 

Rudolph  R.  Reeder,  How  Two  Hundred  Children  Live  and  Learn,  Chapter  VII. 

The  Social  Basis  of  Moral  Education 

The  problem  of  moral  training  is  primarily  a  phase  of  the  larger 
problem  of  social  education.  This  fact  is  admirably  illustrated  in  the 
preceding  extract  from  Dr.  Reeder's  book.  Although  it  refers  specifi- 
cally to  conditions  in  an  institution  for  dependent  children,  the  social 
life  is  apparently  so  normal  and  well-balanced  that  it  is  quite  typical 
of  what  is  possible  in  other  sorts  of  schools.  Dr.  Reeder 's  discussion 
of  the  social  conditions  of  sound  moral  development  is  also  particularly 
clear  and  forceful  and  merits  the  most  serious  study,  especially  with 
reference  to  ways  in  which  these  principles  may  be  worked  out  in  the 
public  schools. 

The  recognition  of  the  social  basis  of  moral  education  has  come  in 
part  from  a  fuller  appreciation  of  the  nature  of  morality .^This  is  seen 
to-day  to  be  essentially  a  social  phenomenon.  Apart  from  partici- 
pation in  social  life,  the  principles  and  precepts  of  ethics  have  no 
significance.  It  is  through  social  intercourse,  through  intimate  co- 
operative and  competitive  activity,  that  rules  of  conduct  have  slowly 
evolved.  Elementary  moral  laws  are  clearly  present  in  the  social 
life  of  all  savage  peoples.  There  are  laws  of  the  chase,  of  war,  of  the 
proper  division  of  food,  laws  which  prescribe  the  form  of  the  camp  and 
the  conduct  of  the  youths,  especially  toward  their  elders.  All  these 
regulations  are  the  direct  consequences  of  human  associations.  It 
would  be  inconceivable  that  they  should  ever  be  thought  of,  much 
less  practiced,  if  these  savages  were  not  social  creatures.  Out  of  these 
primitive  face-to-face  social  relations  develop  higher  moral  laws;  from 
them  come  our  conception  of  the  good  and  the  bad,  of  the  vices  and 
the  virtues  of  the  moral  idea  of  standards  of  conduct. 

The  savage  boy  receives  his  moral  training  by  participating  in  the 
actual  social  life  about  him.  So  have  the  youth  of  all  stages  of  culture, 
even  to  our  own.  All  ideas  regarding  right  and  wrong  that  possess 


MORAL  TRAINING 


409 


any  vitality,  all  conceptions  of  noble  virtue  and  of  compelling  ideals, 
have  come  through  the  social  medium  and  have  been  defined  and 
reenforced  by  the  examples  of  others,  whether  mother,  playmate, 
friend  or  great  historical  character. 

This  sort  of  moral  training  has  been  going  on  in  all  ages,  and  is  as 
effective  to-day  as  it  ever  was.  It  is  noteworthy,  however,  that  when 
the  instituted  agencies  of  education  have  undertaken  the  moral  train- 
ing of  the  children,  these  primary  conditions  of  moral  growth  have 
often  been  ignored.  Some  abstract  and  purely  formed  method  has 
usually  been  adopted  and  practiced.  Thus,  in  European  schools  the 
attempt  is  made  to  hand  over  ready-made  moral  principles  to  boys 
and  girls.  Certain  things  are  taught  as  good,  other  things  as  bad; 
simple  ethical  principles  are  taught  in  the  same  formal  way  that  the 
principles  of  arithmetic  or  the  rules  of  grammar  are  studied  out  of 
books  and  memorized  as  so  many  external  facts.  The  same  methods 
have  been  tried  and  are  being  tried  in  this  country  to  some  extent,  al- 
though, in  most  schools  on  the  whole,  little  attention,  comparatively, 
is  given  to  the  matter  of  moral  training. 

Formal  instruction  in  morals  is  good  as  far  as  it  goes,  but  it  needs 
supplementing  by  opportunities  for  practice.  Its  inherent  defect  is 
that  it  is  apt  to  give  only  an  intellectual  recognition  of  the  principles 
of  conduct.  Mere  knowledge  of  what  is  right  unfortunately  does  not 
always  make  a  person  do  the  right.  The  formal  instruction,  however, 
is  not  to  be  entirely  condemned  or  rejected.  Indeed,  it  has  a  place 
if  it  is  accompanied  by  proper  reenforcement  through  healthful  social 
relations.  The  savage  tribes  usually  tell  their  children  explicitly 
what  they  shall  and  shall  not  do,  —  but  their  moral  training  does  not 
stop  with  this.  It  is  continued  and  illustrated  and  emphasized  in 
every  detail  of  familiar  daily  social  intercourse  and  social  duties. 

Moral  training  is,  as  suggested,  not  dependent  upon  whether  we  are 
thinking  about  it  or  not.  It  does  not  stop  when  we  cease  our  formal 
instruction.  This,  however,  does  not  render  the  problem  of  moral 
education  less  important.  It  suggests  rather  new  lines  of  attack. 
Instead  of  confining  our  attention  to  the  purely  formal  aspects,  neces- 
sary as  they  are,  it  indicates  other  and  even  more  important  avenues 
of  moral  training  which  can  be  rendered  vastly  more  effective  by  sys- 
tematically taking  them  into  account.  Instead  of  ignoring  the  social 


410  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

aspect,  the  effort  to-day  is  to  understand  it  better  and  utilize  it  as  far 
as  may  be  possible,  without  robbing  it  of  its  effectiveness.  The  in- 
formal relations  of  intimate  social  interaction  are  admitted  to  have 
a  character-forming  value.  But  the  character  thus  formed  is  not 
always  of  desirable  sorts.  The  street  gang  furnishes  a  social  at- 
mosphere which  has  profound  character-forming  capacity,  but  unfor- 
tunately character  of  the  worst  sort.  In  the  ordinary  country  vil- 
lage, there  are  powerful  influences  at  work  to  shape  the  life  and  ideals 
of  boys  and  girls.  But  partly  because  nobody  pays  any  attention  to 
them,  these  influences  are  apt  to  be  vicious  rather  than  uplifting. 

The  recognition  of  the  possibility  of  controlling  and  shaping  social 
life  so  that  it  may  contribute  to  the  moral  uplift  of  the  community  is 
one  of  the  aspects  of  the  modern  impulse  for  conservation.  It  is  well 
known  that  in  modern  industry  everything  is  utilized;  the  waste 
products  are  becoming  less  and  less  every  year.  Things  once  thrown 
aside  as  valueless  are  now  turned  to  account  and  found  to  be  the  most 
profitable  aspects  of  the  business.  The  by-products  of  the  packing 
houses  are  said  to  be  worth  more  to-day  than  the  meat  products. 

In  education,  likewise,  we  are  realizing  that  there  are  many  opportu- 
nities for  effecting  educational  results  which  in  times  past  have  been 
entirely  ignored.  We  hardly  dare  predict  the  results  when  we  shall 
set  about  to  turn  to  some  definite  account  the  hitherto  neglected  op- 
portunities for  moral  education. 

These  opportunities  are  particularly  those  \yhich  are  afforded  by 
the  social  life  of  the  school.  ,  This  social  life  which  in  uncontrolled 
ways  is  making  moral  character  of  a  somewhat  uncertain,  nonde- 
script type  may  be  vastly  more  effective  in  the  production  of  moral 
character  of  a  better  sort,  if  the  teacher  can  realize  in  general  how  much 
depends  upon  the  social  relations,  and  specifically  how  to  organize 
the  details  of  these  relations  so  as  to  accomplish  a  high,  rather  than  a 
low,  order  of  character  development. 

The  first  point  to  recognize  is  that  the  school  is  a  "  primary  "  social 
group.  Like  all  "  primary  groups  "  —  e.g.  the  family  or  neighbor- 
hood —  it  is  a  veritable  nursery  of  human  nature.  It  affords  peculiar 
opportunity  for  intimate,  face-to-face  cooperation  and  community  of 
interest  which  are  of  supreme  value  in  the  formation  of  sound  moral 
ideals.  All  that  was  said  in  a  previous  chapter  about  primary  groups 


MORAL  TRAINING  411 

and  primary  ideals  has  specific  application  here.  In  the  group  life 
of  the  school  is  the  soil  from  which  may  spring  up  quite  naturally  those 
fundamental  qualities  of  human  nature  which  are  the  raw  material 
of  all  character,  —  namely,  loyalty,  truthfulness,  cooperation,  en- 
durance, justice,  kindness. 

These  qualities  do  not  have  to  be  implanted  in  the  children ;  they 
are  there  to  start  with,  waiting  only  for  u  little  encouragement  to  call 
them  forth.  The  encouragement  needed  is  little  more  than  face-to- 
face  cooperative  and  competitive  work  and  play.  Without  any  over- 
sight, by  wise  teachers  these  qualities  burst  forth,  but  are  often  nar- 
rowed in  scope  and  perverted  in  function,  as  is  seen  in  the  street  gang 
and  in  the  unsupervised  playground.  Nor  is  supervision  of  the 
primary  groups  of  school  and  playground  inconsistent  with  the  at- 
tainment of  their  moral  possibilities.  As  far  as  the  playground  is 
concerned,  it  is  recognized  by  all  who  have  given  attention  to  it  that 
supervision  is  not  only  necessary,  but  is  welcomed  by  the  children  as 
the  condition  under  which  all  can  enjoy  its  opportunities  most  fully. 
Neither  is  it  inconsistent  with  the  best  moral  possibilities  of  the  school 
that  its  social  life  should  be  consciously  supervised  and  molded  with 
a  view  of  obtaining  the  full  limit  of  the  social  forces  which  spring  up  i 
there,  whether  one  will  or  no.1 

The  first  consideration  and  the  one  of  most  general  importance  is 
that  the  social  life  of  the  school  shall  be  natural  and  as  nearly  as  pos- 
sible a  reproduction  of  the  healthiest  social  life  of  the  community  and 
of  the  country.  If  the  boy  or  girl  is  to  participate  intelligently  in  the 
activities  of  the  larger  society,  he  must  be  trained  along  these  lines  in 
the  school.  If  he  is  to  be  a  member  of  a  democratic  and  progressive 
society,  he  should  attend  a  school  dominated  by  the  principles  which 
lie  at  the  basis  of  such  a  society.  "  He  must  be  educated  for  leader- 
ship as  well  as  for  obedience.  He  must  have  power  of  self-direction 
and  power  of  directing  others,  power  of  administration,  ability  to  as- 
sume positions  of  responsibility."  These  are  qualities  quite  essential 
to  success  in  modern  society,  and  they  are  prime  essentials  to  effective 
moral  character.  If  the  school  is  a  vital  social  institution,  these  quali- 
ties will  be  nourished  and  developed.  If  it  is  not,  they  will  be  corre- 
spondingly neglected. 

1  See  Reeder,  pp.  65-69. 


412  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

"  In  a  certain  city  there  is  a  swimming  school  where  youth  are 
taught  to  swim  without  going  into  the  water,  being  repeatedly  drilled 
in  the  various  movements  which  are  necessary  for  swimming.  When 
one  of  the  young  men  so  trained  was  asked  what  he  did  when  he  got 
into  the  water,  he  laconically  replied,  l  Sunk.'  The  story  happens  to 
be  true ;  if  it  were  not,  it  would  seem  to  be  a  fable,  made  expressly 
for  the  purpose  of  typifying  the  prevailing  status  of  the  school,  as 
judged  from  the  standpoint  of  its  ethical  relationship  to  society.  The 
school  cannot  be  a  preparation  for  social  life  excepting  as  it  reproduces, 
within  itself,  the  typical  conditions  of  social  life.  The  school  at  pres- 
ent is  engaged  largely  upon  the  futile  task  of  Sisyphus.  It  is  endeavor- 
ing to  form  practically  an  intellectual  habit  in  children  for  use  in  a 
social  life  which  is,  it  would  seem,  carefully  and  purposely  kept  away 
from  any  vital  contact  with  the  child  who  is  thus  undergoing  training. 
The  only  way  to  prepare  for  social  life  is  to  engage  in  social  life.  To 
form  habits  of  social  usefulness  and  serviceableness  apart  from  any 
direct  social  need  and  motive,  and  apart  from  any  existing  social 
situation,  is,  to  the  letter,  teaching  the  child  to  swim  by  going  through 
motions  outside  of  the  water.  The  most  indispensable  condition  is 
left  out  of  account,  and  the  results  are  correspondingly  futile."  1 

The  first  problem  of  moral  education  is,  then,  that  of  providing  in 
the  little  social  group  of  the  school  real  copies  of  normal  social  rela- 
tionships, of  developing  in  it  "  an  embryonic  typical  community  life." 
Without  such  provision  all  moral  training  will  be  in  part  formal  and 
in  part  artificial  and  incapable  of  connecting  with  the  inevitable  con- 
ditions of  the  larger  world.  In  the  world  of  adult  society,  for  example, 
the  normal  individual  is  not  consciously  hedged  about  by  all  sorts 
of  restrictions.  He  is  not  restrained  from  wrongdoing  by  the  knowl- 
edge that  the  eye  of  the  law  is  ever  watching  him,  ever  ready  to  re- 
press him.  In  fact,  he  thinks  very  little  about  the  limitations  imposed . 
upon  him.  He  is  busy  with  his  vocation,  which  is  probably  a  decent 
one  and  one  which  is  an  avenue  for  some  definite  service  to  society  as 
well  as  a  means  of  livelihood  for  himself  and  family.  He  is  not  con- 
stantly harassed  by  the  fear  that  he  may  do  something  forbidden  by 
the  law.  If  he  should  constantly  feel  himself  under  surveillance  by 

1  Dewey,  Ethical  Principles  underlying  Edttcation,  pp.  13, 14.    Reprinted  from  the  Third 
Yearbook  of  the  National  Herbart  Society. 


MORAL  TRAINING  413 

the  officers  of  the  law  lest  he  might  do  something  wrong,  his  productive 
capacity  would  be  cut  in  two.  As  it  is,  he  is  constantly  stimulated 
to  do  his  best  in  his  particular  line  through  the  knowledge  that  he  has 
a  work  of  his  own  and  that  it  is  work  which  is  worth  something  to 
others  as  well  as  to  himself.  The  major  part  of  his  attention  is  directed, 
not  toward  avoiding  wrongdoing,  but  performing  positive  service. 
This  holds  true  in  practice  with  even  the  humblest  worker,  even  though 
he  may  not  state  the  matter  to  himself  in  any  such  sophisticated 
fashion.  No  one  can  doubt  that  these  social  conditions  have  a  great 
moral  value  for  the  individual,  or  that  he  develops  in  character  under 
their  influence. 

The  school,  however,  seldom  works  along  such  lines.  "  Too  often 
the  teacher's  concern  with  the  moral  life  of  pupils  takes  the  form  of 
alertness  for  failures  to  conform  to  school  rules  and  routine.  These 
regulations,  judged  from  the  standpoint  of  the  development  of  the 
child  at  the  tune,  are  more  or  less  conventional  and  arbitrary.  They 
are  rules  which  have  been  made  to  order  that  the  existing  modes  of 
school  work  may  go  on ;  but  the  lack  of  inherent  necessity  in  these 
school  modes  reflects  itself  in  a  feeling,  on  the  part  of  the  child,  that 
the  moral  discipline  of  the  school  is  arbitrary.  Any  conditions  that 
compel  the  teacher  to  take  note  of  failures  father  than  of  healthy 
growth  give  false  standards  and  result  in  distortion  and  perversion. 
Attending  to  wrongdoing  ought  to  be  an  incident  rather  than  a  prin- 
ciple. The  child  ought  to  have  a  positive  consciousness  of  what  he 
is  about,  so  as  to  judge  his  acts  from  the  standpoint  of  reference  to  the 
work  which  he  has  to  do.  Only  in  this  way  does  he  have  a  vital  stand- 
ard, one  that  enables  him  to  turn  failures  to  account  for  the  future." l 

The  moral  value  of  work  in  which  a  person  can  truly  express  himself 
is  strikingly  illustrated  in  an  increasingly  large  number  of  modern 
reform  schools.  Of  these  the  Junior  Republic  previously  discussed 
is  typical.  The  majority  of  those  entering  these  schools  have  never 
felt  the  restraining  influence  of  any  definite  work.  As  Mr.  George  says, 
the  "  physical  energy,  vitality,  superabundance  of  spirits,  in  the 
normal  boy,  is  bound  to  have  some  outlet."  If  he  has  no  definite 
work  into  which  he  can  turn  his  energy,  if  he  "  is  irresponsible,  care- 
free, because  he  has  parents,  friends  or  some  society  to  furnish  food 

1  Dewey,  Ethical  Principles  underlying  .Education. 


SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

and  comfort,"  he  is  almost  sure  to  sow  wild  oats  liberally.  When 
such  a  one  is  made  responsible  for  his  own  support,  and  has  aroused 
in  him  an  interest  in  property,  he  is  likely  to  experience  a  moral  trans- 
formation. In  other  words,  when  he  is  thrown  into  a  social  group 
where  the  normal  economic  conditions  of  adult  society  prevail,  he 
learns  for  the  first  time  what  it  means  to  work  steadily  and  patiently, 
and  in  this  way  rapidly  acquires  the  interests  and  becomes  adjusted 
to  the  restraining  influences  that  prevail  among  normal  adults. 
The  thoroughness  with  which  the  most  vicious  and  lawless  characters 
are  made  over  into  law-abiding  citizens  by  being  thus  subjected  to 
the  influences  of  a  normal  social  group  is  convincing  proof  that  moral 
development  is  dependent  upon  a  social  medium  which  provides  defi- 
nite responsibility  in  the  shape  of  work  and  property  and  with  it  the 
opportunity  for  that  social  service  which  each  one  performs  who  pur- 
sues a  vocation  with  skill  and  industry. 

Perhaps  these  measures  would  be  too  drastic  for  the  boy  or  girl  who 
had  not  strayed  into  actual  criminality.  We  cannot  be  too  mindful 
that  in  many  quarters  children  are  systematically  robbed  by  modern 
industry  of  the  joyfulness  and  freedom  that  belong  to  childhood.  The 
evil  of  child  labor  is  not  merely  that  it  is  exhausting  physically  and 
mentally  and  thus  prevents  natural  growth,  but  also  that  it  is  imposed 
upon  its  victims.  They  are  mere  drudges,  not  finding  in  their  work 
any  opportunity  for  joyful  self-expression.  The  work  that  is  morally 
uplifting  is  not  of  the  exhausting,  externally  imposed  type,  but  rather 
that  which  gives  organized  healthful  outlets  to  the  impulses  of  self- 
activity.  "  The  farmer  boy,  in  his  wide  range  of  daily  tasks,  from 
milking  the  cows  and  feeding  the  pigs  in  the  morning  to  digging  the 
potatoes  for  dinner,  weeding  the  garden  in  the  afternoon,  and  finally 
littering  the  stables  at  night,  may  expend  ten  times  as  much  energy 
as  the  factory  boy,  and  go  to  bed  tired  at  night,  but  it  is  wholesome 
work,  and  out  of  it  all  he  will  get  a  good  deal  of  fun  and  no  end  of 
physical  tone  and  appetite."  l 

If,  then,  children  are  ever  to  become  desirable  factors  in  human  so- 
ciety, they  must  begin  in  their  formative  period  to  acquire  some  of 
the  qualities  of  life  which  will  be  demanded  of  them.  If  participa- 
tion in  the  interests  and  activities  of  a  normal  social  group  has 

1  Reeder,  p.  92. 


MORAL  TRAINING  415 

such  salutary  effect  upon  the  lawless  child,  may  it  not  have  values 
that  should  be  secured  also  for  the  normal  boy  or  girl?  For  every 
age  above  babyhood  there  is  a  normal  requirement  of  work  and  re- 
sponsibility. To  deprive  the  child  of  this  privilege  is  to  deprive  him 
of  the  conditions  of  normal  growth. 

This  artificiality  of  the  school  atmosphere  is  an  outcome  of  the  tend- 
ency of  the  school,  as  an  institution,  to  develop  a  life  of  its  own  which 
becomes  more  or  less  independent  of  the  society  that  it  serves.  When 
the  entire  community  was  active  in  the  training  of  its  children  the 
atmosphere  of  education  was  identical  with  that  of  the  social  group. 
It  is  perhaps  inevitable  that  it  would  lose  its  vital  social  quality  as 
the  school  is  differentiated  and  gradually  acquires  a  peculiar  technique 
and  traditions  of  its  own. 

But  this  is  an  age  in  which  the  maximum  of  productivity  is  demanded 
of  all  investments.  The  same  constant  and  careful  scrutiny  which 
is  being  applied  to  other  lines  of  human  activity  to  insure  the  best 
returns  must  be  applied  to  the]  school.  Its  tendency  to  become  iso- 
lated and  artificial,  natural  though  that  tendency  may  be,  must  be 
constantly  checked  by  the  determined  effort  of  wise  teachers.  A  more 
widespread  conception  of  the  school  as  a  social  institution  and  as  one 
of  the  media  of  social  conservation  and  regeneration  must  displace 
the  narrow  idea  of  its  function  as  that  for  merely  imparting  a  little 
formal  knowledge.  This  intelligent  appreciation  of  the  meaning  of 
the  school  will  exert  a  constant  influence  in  preserving  in  it  a  true  and 
healthful  relation  to  the  social  whole.  There  is  a  striking  contrast 
between  the  well-ordered  home  and  the  school  in  this  particular. 
The  home  does  not  lay  upon  the  children  duties  and  responsibilities 
that  are  different  from  the  social  life  in  which  it  participates.  The 
children  have  in  the  home  the  same  motives  for  right  doing  and  are 
judged  by  standards  similar  to  those  which  prevail  in  the  wider  adult 
society.  "  Interest  in  community  welfare,  an  interest  that  is  intel- 
lectual and  practical  as  well  as  emotional, — an  interest,  that  is  to  say, 
in  perceiving  whatever  makes  for  social  order  and  progress,  and  in 
carrying  these  principles  into  execution,  —  is  the  moral  habit  to  which 
all  the  special  school  habits  (as  the  special  family  habits)  must  be  re- 
lated if  they  are  to  be  animated  by  the  breath  of  life."  1 

1  J.  Dewey,  Moral  Principles  in  Education,  1910. 


4i 6  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

In  a  preceding  section  we  have  seen  that  the  specific  teaching  of 
the  school  may  be  rendered  more  effective  by  a  recognition  of  the  so- 
cial quality  of  these  functions.  This  increased  effectiveness  will  con- 
tribute to  the  moral  as  well  as  to  the  intellectual  side.  Enlightened 
methods  of  socialized  instruction  will  be  far  more  productive  of  genuine 
moral  growth  than  any  formal  instruction  in  the  principles  of  right 
doing.  Moral  character  is  more  than  a  set  of  ideas,  it  is  much  more 
the  whole  attitude  of  life  with  its  subtle  complex  of  habits  gradually 
built  up  through  the  method  and  spirit  in  which  countless  little  things 
have  been  done.  We  thus  see  that  every  phase  of  school  activity,  in- 
cluding that  of  the  mental  teaching,  has  its  moral  possibilities.  For 
instance,  compare  the  different  moral  consequences  of  emphasizing 
"  construction  and  giving  out  rather  than  absorption  and  mere  learn- 
ing." The  latter  method  is  essentially  individualistic  and  inevitably, 
though  unconsciously,  shapes  the  child's  point  of  view  and  determines 
his  future  modes  of  action.  "  Imagine  fourth-grade  children  all  engaged 
in  reading  the  same  books,  and  in  preparing  and  reciting  the  same  les- 
sons day  after  day.  Suppose  this  process  constitutes  by  far  the 
larger  part  of  their  work,  and  that  they  are  continually  judged  from  the 
standpoint  of  what  they  are  able  to  take  in  in  a  study  hour  and  re- 
produce hi  a  recitation.  There  is  no  opportunity  for  any  social  divi- 
sion of  labor.  There  is  no  opportunity  for  each  child  to  work  out  some- 
thing specifically  his  own,  which  he  may  contribute  to  the  common 
stock,  while  he  in  turn  participates  in  the  productions  of  others.  All 
are  set  to  do  exactly  the  same  work  and  turn  out  the  same  products. 
.  .  .  One  reason  why  reading  aloud  in  school  is  poor  is  that  the  real 
motive  for  the  use  of  language  —  the  desire  to  communicate  and  to 
learn  —  is  not  realized.  The  child  knows  perfectly  well  that  the 
teacher  and  all  his  fellow  pupils  have  exactly  the  same  facts  and  ideas 
before  them  that  he  has ;  he  is  not  giving  them  anything  at  all.  And 
it  may  be  questioned  whether  the  moral  lack  is  not  as  great  as  the 
intellectual." 

Moreover,  prevailing  methods  of  instruction  not  only  fail  to  culti- 
vate the  social  spirit,  they  inculcate  motives  that  are  positively  indi- 
vidualistic. The  teacher  seeks  to  hold  the  child  to  his  studies,  not 
through  his  social  interest,  but  through  his  personal  regard  for  the 
teacher,  to  please  him,  to  retain  his  esteem,  or  even  fear  for  the  dis: 


MORAL  TRAINING 


417 


approbation  of  the  teacher  which  may  become  morbid  and  paralyz- 
ing. Likewise,  emulation  and  rivalry  are  appealed  to,  and  the  child 
is  constantly  encouraged  to  judge  of  his  success  not  by  his  own  in- 
dividual and  unique  contributions,  but  by  comparing  himself  with 
his  mates.  In  this  way  a  demoralizing  external  standard  is  substituted 
for  the  intrinsic  one  of  love  for  the  thing  itself  as  well  as  for  its  social 
meaning.  He  glories  not  in  his  own  powers,  but  in  their  supposed 
superiority  to  some  one  else.  As  Professor  Dewey  says,  the  child  is 
thus  "  launched  prematurely  into  the  regions  of  individualistic  com- 
petition, and  this  in  a  direction  where  competition  is  least  applicable; 
namely,  in  intellectual  and  artistic  matters,  whose  law  is  cooperation 
and  participation." 

There  is  another  aspect  of  school  method  or  rather  of  characteris- 
tic school  emphasis  which  tends  to  weaken  rather  than  to  build  up  a 
sound  moral  attitude;  that  is,  the  frequent  reference  to  a  remote 
future  to  justify  present  tasks.  There  is  no  sufficient  immediate  mo- 
tive for  doing  this  or  that  thing.  What  difference  does  it  make  if  one 
does  not  do  his  best  just  now  ?  Why  not  put  off  till  to-morrow  some 
of  the  duties  assigned  for  to-day?  It  can  make  no  special  difference; 
the  goal  is  so  far  away  that  the  matter  of  an  hour  or  two  or  a  day  or 
two  will  not  appreciably  affect  one's  final  attainment.  How  different 
are  the  pupil's  attitudes  if  he  feels  that  what  he  does  has  present  value, 
immediate  and  tangible  consequences !  Reeder  well  says,  "  when  I 
have  attempted  to  attain  certain  definite  results  with  children  and 
failed,  I  have  rarely  found  the  chief  cause  to  be  in  the  children.  It 
generally  means  that  the  motive  or  attainment  has  not  been  adequate. 
The  goal  was  too  remote,  appreciation  of  its  value  too  slight,  or  there 
was  lack  of  personal  touch  and  inspiration,  so  that  whatever  was 
necessary  to  energize  the  full  capacity  of  the  child  was  wanting.  The 
remedy  would  naturally  be  to  quicken  the  interest  in  the  end  sought." 
He  goes  on  to  tell  how,  when  they  moved  into  their  new  cottage  homes 
some  years  ago,  a  serious  problem  presented  itself  with  reference  to 
preventing  reckless  breakage  of  the  china  with  which  each  house  was 
furnished.  The  children  were  expected  to  do  all  the  work  which  in- 
volved handling  the  china,  but  they  seemed  to  have  no  conscience  what- 
ever about  doing  it  carefully.  While  fining  them  for  breakage  acted 
as  a  slight  deterrent,  it  did  not  go  far  enough.  Then  a  social  as  over 

2E 


4i8  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

against  an  individual  motive  was  devised.  "  We  fixed  a  maximum 
as  a  standard  of  reasonable  care.  If  the  breakage  exceeded  this  al- 
lowance, the  excess  was  replaced  with  plain  agate  ware.  This  new  fea- 
ture touched  the  strongest  asset  in  the  cottage  system;  namely,  cot- 
tage pride.  By  carelessness  on  the  part  of  those  children  who  served 
in  the  pantry  and  dining  room,  a  cottage  might  lose  all  its  beautiful 
china.  Three  of  them  did  lose  a  fourth  of  their  table  ware  before 
they  became  thoroughly  aroused.  But  the  effect  was  salutary.  By 
the  end  of  the  first  six  months  the  total  amount  of  breakage  was  re- 
duced fifty  per  cent,  in  some  cottages  seventy-five  per  cent.  .  .  .  For 
the  past  three  six-month  periods  the  average  breakage  per  cottage  has 
been  less  than  one  piece  per  week.  ...  It  is  no  uncommon  thing  for 
a  child  to  serve  six  months  in  dining  room  or  pantry  without  a  break- 
age. .  .  ."  As  the  author  says,  this  experiment  in  motivation  is  typi- 
cal in  character.  To  fine  a  child  for  his  carelessness  was  purely  an 
individual  matter.  No  one  suffered  but  the  one  who  paid  the  fine. 
But  under  the  scheme  the  carelessness  "  reflected  upon  the  social  and 
moral  standing  of  the  whole  cottage  group.  Breaking  china  became 
no  longer  merely  an  individual  mishap;  it  was  a  social  offense.  The 
unfortunate  child  that  tripped  up  and  smashed  a  half  dozen  saucers 
stirred  up  the  whole  cottage  group,"  who  felt  the  disgrace  of  being 
thus  forced  to  use  agate  ware  upon  their  table.1 

Here  was  a  situation  in  which  care  had  decided  present  value.  The 
future  value  of  habits  of  carefulness  would  have  furnished  no  adequate 
motive  to  the  children  for  being  circumspect  in  the  present.  The 
thing  was  worth  doing  not  as  a  preparation  for  adult  Me  but  because 
'to  omit  it  meant  individual  loss  and  stern  social  disapproval  of  one's 
peers  then  and  there.  As  Dewey  says:  "Who  can  reckon  up  the 
loss  of  moral  power  that  arises  from  the  constant  impression  that 
nothing  is  worth  doing  in  itself,  but  only  as  a  preparation  for  something 
else  —  for  some  genuinely  serious  end  beyond."  In  the  case  of  future 
values  also  the  motive  is  largely  egoistic,  as  far  as  it  goes,  rather  than 
social.  Whatever  be  the  future  values  of  the  things  studied,  there 
should  always  be  for  the  learner  at  least  a  little  present  social  justifi- 
cation for  the  task.  Whenever  the  active  impulses  are  appealed  to, 
wherever  the  pupil  finds  for  himself  the  joy  of  discovery,  of  making, 

feeder,  op.  cit.,  pp.  184-187. 


MORAL  TRAINING  419 

of  producing  something,  rather  than  merely  demonstrating  his  su- 
perior absorbing  power,  his  mind  is  opened  for  reciprocity,  for  co- 
operation and  for  personal  achievement  that  is  social  and  hence  mor- 
ally uplifting. 

One  aspect  of  the  social  basis  of  moral  training  we  have  not  as  yet 
considered,  —  it  is  that  which  grows  out  of  the  personal  touch  with 
teachers  or  adults  generally.  The  relation  of  teacher  to  child  can  never 
be  purely  formal;  there  is  always  the  personal  element  and  this  as  we 
have  seen  in  the  chapter  on  "  personality  "  is  always  a  social  factor. 
Even  in  the  most  formal  moral  instruction,  which,  taken  by  itself, 
has  little  value,  there  is  always  added  thereto  the  positive  or  negative 
influence  of  the  teacher  as  a  person  in  the  child's  social  environment. 
Hence  instruction  in  morals  through  telling  of  stories  or  discussing 
simple  ethical  principles  is  a  social  process  and  the  interaction  of  child 
and  teacher  must  be  included  among  the  social  bases  of  moral  train- 
ing. This  interaction  is,  of  course,  much  more  widely  extended  than 
actual  class  teaching.  It  is  as  inclusive  as  is  the  We  of  the  school  itself. 

The  moral  values  of  personal  touch  also  vary  widely;  in  the  case  of 
some  teachers  the  influence  may,  of  course,  be  altogether  negative ; 
from  this  as  a  lower  limit  it  may  range  upward  in  almost  limitless  de- 
gree. "  One  of  the  most  potent  of  all  incentives  in  child  life  is  the 
example  and  influence  of  older  people  whom  the  child  respects  and 
admires.  Example  and  imitation  always  outrun  instruction;  thus  this 
personal  touch  of  older  and  wiser  but  genial  and  companionable  people 
is  the  greatest  need  in  child  life  everywhere.  (Children  may)  become 
inexpressibly  lonely,  although  constantly  in  a  crowd  of  children.  To 
suppose  that  about  all  children  need  to  make  them  happy  are  play- 
things and  other  children  to  play  with,  is  a  great  mistake.  They 
weary  of  one  another  much  sooner  than  of  older  people.  In  fact,  if 
the  older  associates  are  interesting  and  companionable,  their  company 
is  preferred  to  that  of  children.  ...  It  is  seldom  that  children  in 
their  own  homes  receive  that  sympathy  and  cooperation  from  older 
people  in  either  work  or  play  for  which  they  deeply  yearn."  1 

"  The  best  that  has  come  to  parents  and  teachers  through  heredity, 
education  and  experience  can  be  passed  on  to  their  children,  not  by 
formal  instruction,  but  through  comradeship  and  intimate  association 

1  Reeder,  pp.  188-189. 


420  SOCIAL  ASPECTS  OF  EDUCATION 

with  them  in  all  of  the  relations  and  interests  which  enlarge  and  en- 
rich home  life.  .  .  .  Wise  parents  will  enter  into  the  games  and  pas- 
times of  their  children,  will  swim  and  skate  and  coast  with  them,  will 
read  and  stroll  and  play  games  with  them,  will  plan  and  build  and 
sympathize  with  them  in  their  struggles,  in  their  failures,  and  hi  the 
training  of  their  pets."  1 

It  is  in  this  daily  sympathetic,  communicative  contact  of  the  child 
with  healthy  minded,  vigorous  manhood  and  womanhood  that  some 
of  the  truest,  most  effective  moral  training  occurs.  At  least  is  it  in- 
dispensable that  hi  the  general  social  atmosphere  of  the  home  and  of 
the  school  this  should  be  included  as  one  of  the  most  important  ele- 
ments. 

TOPICS  FOR  STUDY  AND  DISCUSSION 

1.  The  relation  between  formal  moral  training  and  a  social  atmos- 
phere favorable  to  the  development  of  good  morals. 

2.  Can  one  go  without  the  other?    What  illustrations  of  Reeder's 
show  the  need  of  both  sides? 

3.  Can  you  give  others?    Give  several  illustrations  of  your  own 
of  the  way  in  which  public  sentiment  will  control  an  individual. 

4.  Can  a  person  become  moral  by  mere  imitation  ?    Which  should 
be  prior,  the  practical  experience  which  the  teacher  may  call  the  child's 
attention  to  as  having  a  moral  significance,  or  the  moral  precept  itself 
which  the  child  may  later  apply  as  he  sees  the  need  ? 

5.  Give  practical  illustrations  of  the  evil  consequences  of  the  teacher's 
having  as  her  predominant  attitude  that  of  watching  for  offenses. 

6.  Why  is  expectation  of  good  conduct  psychologically  sounder? 

REFERENCES  ON  THE  SOCIAL   BASIS  OF  MORAL  EDU- 
CATION 

ADDAMS,  JANE.  Democracy  and  Social  Ethics.  Chapter  VI,  "Edu- 
cational Methods. " 

BUCK,  WINIFRED.  Boy's  Self-governing  Clubs,  New  York,  1903. 
Suggestive  chapters  on  the  ethical  lessons  of  the  playground  and 
of  the  business  meeting. 

COOLEY,  C.  H.  Social  Organization,  New  York,  1909.  Chapter  IV, 
"Primary  Ideals."  The  social  basis  of  certain  fundamental  moral 
qualities. 

1  Ibid.,  p.  198. 


MORAL  TRAINING  421 

DEWEY,  J.  Moral  Principles  in  Education,  Riverside  Educational 
Monographs.  Boston,  1910. 

FORBUSH,  W.  B.  The  Boy  Problem,  6th  ed.,  1907.  Especially  Chap- 
ter II.  "The  by-laws  of  boy  life." 

GEORGE,  WM.  The  Junior  Republic,  New  York,  1910.  Gives  many 
illustrations  of  the  restraining  moral  power  of  public  sentiment. 

GILBERT,  CHAS.  C.  "The  morale  of  the  school."  Chapters  III  and  IV 
of  The  School  and  its  Life. 

GRIGGS,  E.  H.  Moral  Education.  Chapter  XII,  "Moral  influence  of 
the  social  atmosphere."  Chapter  XIII,  "Principles  of  govern- 
ment in  home  and  school." 

HOLDEN,  E.  S.  "How  honor  and  justice  may  be  taught  in  the  public 
schools,"  Cosmopolitan,  29 :  667. 

JENKS,  JEREMIAH.  "The  social  basis  of  education,"  Chapter  II  of 
Citizenship  and  the  Schools. 

McCuNN,  JOHN.  Making  of  Character,  New  York,  1900.  "Family, 
school,  friendship,"  Chapter  IV,  Part  II. 

Moral  Training  in  the  Public  Schools,  five  authors.  See  especially 
p.  107. 

REEDER,  R.  How  Two  Hundred  Children  Live  and  Learn,  Chapters 
VII  and  VIII.  Illustrations  of  the  social  motive  for  good  conduct. 
Value  of  adult  association  in  moral  growth. 

SCOTT,  C.  A.  Social  Education.  Chapter  XII,  "The  education  of  the 
conscience."  Helpful,  general  suggestions. 

SISSON,  E.  O.  The  Essentials  of  Character.  Chapter  VIII,  "The  social 
ideal."  Basic  truths  of  human  life,  social  intelligence,  love  of 
man,  courtesy. 

WELTON  AND  BLANFORD.  Principles  and  Methods  of  Moral  Training. 
Chapter  VI,  "  The  school  community." 


INDEX 


Adult,  education  of,  18. 

Agricultural  high  school,  community  work 

of,  43  f . 

Antagonism  between  pupils  and  teacher,  378. 
Athletics  in  a  socially  organized  high  school, 

279  f. 
Attention,  influence  of  group  upon,  360. 

Boy  legislation,  255. 

Clubhouse  for  high  school,  284. 

Clubs,  civic,  83,  84,  90,  117;  boys',  82,  249; 

girls',   86;    farm,   44;    women's,   86;    in 

high  school,  278. 
Conception,  social  basis  of,  332. 
Continuation  schools,  149 ;   development  of, 

in  Germany,  150;    time  allotted  to,  152; 

in  Munich,  152  f. 
Contract  theory  of  society,  231. 
Controlling  power  of   the  group  upon   the 

individual,  304  f.,  379,  406  f. 
Conversation,  educational  value  of,  348  f. ; 

recognition  of,  by   ancient   Greeks,  349; 

between  child  and  adult,  351  f. 
Corn  congress,  47. 

Corporate  life  of  school,  264 ;  value  of,  265  f . 
Curriculum,  social  values  of,  369  ff. 

Dancing  parties  in  high  school,  286. 
Delinquency  due  to  physical  defects  and  to 

social  maladjustments,  231;    methods  of 

treating,  232  f. 
Democratic  government  of  schools,  291. 

Education  and  progress,  3,  21,  220;  increas- 
ing social  responsibility  of,  4 ;  social  origin 
of,  6  ff . ;  moral  and  religious,  of  savages, 
9,  19;  development  dependent  upon 
natural  selection,  17;  imitation  and  famil- 
iar social  intercourse  the  basis  of,  18; 
social  need  for,  20  f.,  24;  tendency  to  be- 
come irresponsive  to  social  need,  21,  25  f. ; 


dependence  of,  on  past,   156;    enlarging 

scope  of,  221 ;  and  social  reform,  230. 
Efficiency  of  high  school  graduate,  189  f. 
Evening  lecture  system  of  New  York  City, 

98;    aims  of,  99;    types  of  lectures,  100; 

social  value,  101, 105, 107. 

Festival,  school,  269. 

Fraternity,  the  high  school,  272;  prohibi- 
tion of,  284. 

Gardens,  school,  129  f. ;  kinds  of,  129,  133  f. ; 
social  values,  130  f. ;  influence  of,  on  re- 
mainder of  school  work,  132 ;  educational 
significance  of,  140. 

Geography,  social  meaning  of,  371. 

Give  and  take  in  class  work,  396. 

Group  as  a  stimulus  to  mental  activity,  358 ; 
explanation  of,  361 ;  self-organized  group 
work,  383  f. 

Herbartian  psychology,  individualistic,  364. 
Hesperia  movement,  29  f. ;   ideals  of,  31. 
History,  social  meanings  of,  372. 
Home  and  school  associations,   30  f.,   35; 

work  of,  58  f. 
Home  and  school,  separation  of,  54  f . ;  need 

for  codperation,   55;  school  gardening  a 

bond  between,  137. 
House  system,  English,  277. 

Imagination,  group  influence  upon,  362  f. 

Imitation,  327. 

Impulse  and  initiative  factors  in  progress, 
225 ;  conservation  of,  by  school,  226  f. 

Individual  and  group,  325. 

Industrial  training  among  primitive  peoples, 
7.  See  also  Vocational  education. 

Initiation  ceremonies,  educational  signifi- 
cance of,  364. 

Instincts,  327,  363. 

Interscholastic  sports,  279. 


423 


424 


INDEX 


Judgment,  social  basis  of,  334. 
Judicial  procedure  among  boys,  257. 

Language,  a  social  acquisition,  329  f.,  345. 

Lawfulness,  a  social  ideal,  245. 

Leadership  in  the  school,  310  f. ;  character  of 
the  school  leader,  318;  qualities  producing 
prestige,  312;  biological  need  of,  313; 
among  primitive  peoples,  314;  affirmative 
quality  of,  315 ;  leader  an  interpreter  of  his 
group,  316 ;  lower  types  of,  316;  teacher  as 
leader,  320 ;  in  the  old  fashioned  school,  378. 

Learning,  social  aspects  of,  357. 

Lectures  for  farmers,  46;  evening  lecture 
system,  98  f. 

McDonogh  School,  250  f. 

Manual  training,  supposed  values  of,  157; 
vs.  industrial  training,  158. 

Mathematics,  social  meaning  of,  375. 

Medical  attention  to  delinquents,  231. 

Memory,  influence  of  group  upon,  360. 

Mental  activity  conditioned  by  presence  of 
others,  358;  experiments  by  Mayer,  358; 
Meumann,  359  f . ;  Triplett,  359. 

Mental  development  socially  conditioned, 
326  f. ;  recognition  of,  by  Froebel,  344; 
in  race,  347. 

Military  government,  defects  of,  293. 

Moral  unity,  a  social  ideal,  243. 

Moral  training,  social  basis  of,  399  f . ;  among 
primitive  peoples,  408;  defect  of  formal 
moral  training,  409 ;  continuous  character 
of,  410 ;  neglected  opportunities  for,  410  f . ; 
teacher's  attitude  often  unfavorable,  413; 
moral  value  of  work  and  responsibility, 
413  f. ;  individualistic  methods,  416; 
question  of  sufficient  motives,  417;  per- 
sonal touch  with  older  persons,  419. 

Morning  assembly,  social  value  of,  269 ;  work 
of,  283. 

Occupations,  social  value  of,  in  education, 
210  f. 

Parents'  associations  in  high  school,  work  of, 

281. 

Parent  teacher  associations,  30  f. 
Personality,    social    conditions   of,    336    f. ; 

stages  in  the  development  of,  336  f . ;  sex 

differences  in  the  development  of,  340. 
Pittsburgh,  playgrounds  of,  115  f. 
Playgrounds,  109 ;   ideals  of,  109 ;   need  for, 

no  f. ;   play  organizer,  112,  119;  directed 


play,  112,  120;  expenditures,  113;  Massa- 
chusetts playground  act  of  1008,  114; 
development  of,  in  Pittsburgh,  115  f.  ; 
ignorance  of  how  to  play,  118;  play  and 
child  labor,  121;  play  festival,  121; 
social  values  of  playground  extension, 
124  f. 

Primary  groups,  238  f. 

Primary  ideals,  241  f. 

Problems,  social  origin  of,  347,  350. 

Pupil  coSperation  in  school  government,  291 ; 
organization  of,  295 ;  in  high  school,  297 ; 
extent  of  in  United  States,  298;  civic 
training  through,  299  f.;  objections  to, 
answered,  301  f . ;  capacity  of  children  for, 
304- 

Reasoning,  social  basis  of,  332,  334,  354. 

Rochester  social  centers,  75  f. 

Rural  school  problem,  25  f.,  28  f. ;  Hesperia 

movement,  29;    adapting  rural  school  to 

needs  of  country,  39  f. 

School  a  primary  group,  264;     a  society, 

276. 

Self,  sense  of,  a  social  product,  335. 
Self-organized  group  work,  385  f . ;  moral  and 

social  value  of,  392. 
Social  centers,  65  f. ;  rural  schools  as,  39,  41 

four    developments    leading    to,    68    f. 

function    of,    73;    in    Rochester,    75    f. 

cost  of,  91 ;   need  for,  91 ;   differing  types 

of,  92 ;  reasons  for  use  of  school  property, 

94. 

Social  character  of  the  adolescent,  275. 
Social  criterion  needful  in  course  of  study, 

Social  impulses  lacking  in   the  traditional 

school  regime,  365. 

Social  nature  of  class  instruction,  393  f. 
Social  organizations  among  children,  242  f . ; 

aspects  of  moral  training,  399  f . ;  contrast 

in  early  mental  development,  328. 
Social  progress,  3,  206  f . ;    nature  of,  217; 

means  of,  218 ;  school  as  an  instrument  in ; 

adaptation  theory  of  progress  criticized, 

223;    dependence  of,  upon  impulse  and 

initiative,  226. 

Social  reform  and  education,  230. 
Social  secretary  in  high  school,  267. 
Social  self-feeling,  343. 
Social  value  of  school  festival,  269. 
Society,  general  nature  of,  236 ;  an  organism, 

237 ;  an  organization,  238 ;  the  "  primary 

group  "  the  unit  of,  238. 


INDEX 


425 


Sororities  in  high  school,  272. 
Subordinate    organizations    in    the     school 
society,  270. 

Thinking  socially  conditioned,  331. 
Truth  and  good  faith  in  "  primary  groups," 
244. 

University  high  school,  Chicago,  social   or- 
ganization of,  278. 


Vocational  direction,  177  f. ;  development 
in  New  York,  189  f. 

Vocational  counselor,  183,  203. 

Vocational  education,  public  responsibility 
for,  145 ;  not  narrowing,  145 ;  moral  value 
of,  146  f.,  148,  154;  vs.  manual  training, 
158;  typical  state  movements,  161 ;  na- 
tional appropriations  for,  162;  social 
significance  of,  165  f.,  210;  moral  and 
intellectual  values,  168  f. ,  older  than 
liberal  education,  170. 


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